Lullaby
by Nika Dixon
Summary: Final chapters posted - now Complete! Jen and Evan discover performance reviews don't always go as planned. Kidnapping, theft, murder, and revenge. Gotta love it! Ronon/Keller.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I wrote this for the challenge on the LJ SGOneSweetLove board. :) The topic was music. :) I hope you enjoy! Takes place early S5, implies Teyla's baby is on Atlantis._

* * *

_Hush little baby don't say a word,  
__Auntie's gonna buy you a mocking bird._

Ronon hesitated in the doorway, the soft sound of her voice carrying across the warm evening breeze. He moved forward, peering around the corner towards the end of the balcony. Night had long fallen and the lights from the city bathed everything in a delicate glow.

His breath caught.

She was so beautiful.

_If that mocking bird won't sing,  
__Auntie's gonna buy you a diamond ring._

Jennifer's bare feet peeked out from the hem of the soft pink sleep pants riding low on her hips. He saw a flash of pale, creamy skin around her waist as she rotated, bare arms cradling the tiny babe.

Golden hair hung down around her shoulders, hiding her face, covering the stringy straps of the shirt she wore. He was jealous of the soft tendrils, for they were able to freely touch the delicate skin along the side of her neck. Skin he ached to feel beneath his lips.

His eyes dropped lower, following her hips as they swayed gracefully side to side, rocking with a sensual motion that heated his blood.

_If that diamond ring turns brass,  
__Auntie's gonna buy you a looking glass._

So small - so tiny - so absolutely helpless that every time he saw the baby he felt a tangled rush of emotion. Fear. Angst. Protectiveness. Pride. The babe was not his, yet somehow, the little one had become everyone's. An entire city of overprotective family, smitten with ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes.

It was also overwhelmingly frightening. A shock to see the hold the little creature held over everyone after such a short time. How they all begged Teyla for turns watching him. Playing with him. Caring for him.

Ronon watched how gently Jennifer cradled Teyla's child. The way his tiny head rested so perfectly in the crook of her arm. The protective arch of her shoulders as she held him tightly against her chest. Graceful fingers caressing his tiny forehead.

_If that looking glass gets broke,  
__Auntie's gonna buy you a billy goat._

Once… long ago… he had planned on having a family. It was the circle of life. He would marry. He would have a child. He would raise a family. He would fight the wraith and die. His child would start the cycle again. It was how they'd lived. How it was always meant to be.

But that was a dream of another.

A dream he'd long forgotten.

A dream he'd forced into a dark hole in his soul never to be thought of again.

A dream that with each passing day was forcing its way back out - one soft laugh, one fearless smile, one knowing glance at a time.

_If that billy goat won't pull,  
__Auntie's gonna buy you a cart and bull._

It was all her doing.

He wondered if she realized she was doing it at all.

They'd never talked about it. The _him_ and _her_.

Instead they been performing a slow, agonizing dance, a dance each refused to lead. Both following the same steps back and forth. One watching, the other catching, the first turning away.

_If that cart and bull turn over,  
__Auntie's gonna buy you a dog named Rover. _

Her body gyrated in a slow circle, the evening breeze teasing her hair as she watched the young one sleeping in her arms. She gifted the child with a soft kiss, her lips lightly brushing his smooth forehead.

She lowered her head, eyes closed, cheek pressed lightly against the baby's forehead as she swayed, and Ronon felt something give, deep inside his heart. A doorway he'd closed and locked years ago.

His mind drifted and for a moment – a tiny, fleeting moment – he wished she was his. He wished the child was his. He wished for the family he would never have. The life he would never know. And for a brief flicker of time, he was once again that man with the dream.

_If that dog named Rover won't bark,  
__Auntie's gonna buy you a horse and cart._

He remembered the first time he saw her – the timid little doctor working in Carson's infirmary. Small. Pretty. And as intimidating as one of the lab's little white mice.

He growled. He'd pushed. He'd insulted her and demanded Carson. And she'd all but ignored him. Then when he'd refused to sit down so she could stitch his arm, she'd simply dragged a small table over and stood in front of him and cleaned his wound. At first he'd been too surprised to move away, then curiosity slowly edged in and he wondered just how far she'd go with him standing in the middle of the infirmary. She'd picked up his arm - he'd given her no aid – and propped his wrist on her narrow shoulder, and proceeded to stitch the inside of his arm while he stood towering over her. She'd finished, gently removed his hand from her shoulder, told him to take it easy for a few days, and walked away.

Walked away as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

After that he'd watched. Watched and learned. He noticed way she pushed herself to find solutions other's refused to believe. Saw the respect she'd earned from her staff and the personnel of Atlantis. Watched her commanding transformation - the way her staff obeyed without question - when she was in the operating room. Witnessed her practically destroy her own lab in order to break them out during the quarantine.

He'd been impressed.

More than impressed.

He'd been taken.

_If that horse and cart falls down,  
__You'll still be the cutest little baby in town._

The final words of her whispered lullaby faded into the night air and she turned, walking away from him, her hips swaying as she continued to dance. She moved across the balcony towards the small basket sitting on a chair in the corner. With a last kiss, she lay the little one gently down, and tucked him in with a knitted blanket.

When she turned away from the sleeping child, the light breeze carried the sad sound of her sigh across the balcony to his ears. She leaned on the railing, her shoulders hunched as she stared into the night. Her body was unmoving, a statue, save for the soft rise and fall of her chest. He studied her profile in the golden light of the city, watched as she raised a hand to swipe at her cheek, and ached to know who or what could cause her to shed a tear, and it startled him to realize he'd never before seen her cry.

He straightened and stepped out of the shadows, unable to stop himself.

She jumped when he appeared beside her, and laughed at herself.

"I know." He shrugged, his voice soft so as not to wake the baby. "I need a bell."

She laughed again, the sound soft and musical, and he smiled to know she really did think it was _funny_ – not frightening, not annoying, not alien – just funny… how he could always sneak up on her.

No one had _ever_ thought he was funny.

No one, until her.

He leaned on the railing, his arm a hair's breadth from touching hers. His body warmed when she leaned ever so slightly to the right, completing the contact and brushing their skin together.

"You okay?" He asked, finally finding the courage to say the words.

She nodded and turned around to rest her back against the railing, her eyes watching the basket and the sleeping baby. Then she shook her head and he saw her breath catch, her throat working as she swallowed hard, then she turned towards him and with a suddenness that shocked him, she wrapped her arms around his stomach and buried her face in his chest.

"Hey." He said, his arms slowly circling around her. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, refusing to speak, leaning into him as her arms clutched tightly around his middle.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, trying to remember the last time someone had sought him - him… Ronon Dex… for comfort. Since Melena? There had been no one. He was looked to for safety and security now that he'd been accepted on Atlantis as part of John Sheppard's team. But even then, people still treated him like an outsider. So how was it this woman – this healer – would turn to him for comfort? Would she have done this if someone else had come through the doors tonight? He tensed to think of her wrapped around someone else – Sheppard. McKay. Lorne. She was friendly with them all. Perhaps this was just one of those earth things.

"Thank you."

"For what?" He blinked and felt his arms tense.

He felt her body jump slightly as she laughed against her chest.

"For letting me do that."

"Letting you do what?"

"I just… I guess I needed a hug." She sighed and pulled back. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" He released her… reluctantly.

"For… well, for attacking you like that." She turned on the balcony, her hands gripping the railing while she stared out across the city.

"Why are you sorry?" He turned and faced night lights, resting his arms on the railing.

"I just… sometimes, here… this place… everything… it gets to me after a while." She sighed, and glanced over at him before dropping her eyes and turning away. He could see the embarrassed flush in her cheeks.

"It happens to everyone."

"Yeah but everyone else seems to have an outlet." She shook her head. "Teyla meditates. John flies. Rodney talks to Jeannie, even though he would never admit it. Evan paints. You spar…" She nudged him with her shoulder. "And me?" She shrugged. "I got nuttin."

"Why not?"

"I just…" She snorted. "It's silly. I know. But sometimes? Sometimes when I think of all the things going on here. People we've lost. People we've found. I get so overwhelmed and sometimes I just want…" Her voice trailed off and she turned her head to watch the baby. "I just want a hug."

"And you can't… get one?"

She shook her head and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Not here, no. Not since I left home."

"And do you want a hug often?"

"Oh yeah." She exhaled so softly he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly if not for the tiny nodding of her chin.

"I don't understand why this should be such a problem then."

At this she laughed. "The problem is… the problem is… I don't just need a hug. I need a _hug_. It's not something you can just ask for. It's not something _I_ can ask for."

He saw her smile again at his frown, and wondered if he'd ever truly understand these people from Earth and their strange speech.

"I'm not explaining this very well, am I?" She hesitated, then turned towards him and leaned her hip on the railing, opened her mouth then closed it, and he knew she was choosing her words. She looked over at the basket and the tiny baby. He watched her, mesmerized, and waited for her to continue.

"A hug has to… envelop." She said quietly, her eyes softening as she watched the sleeping child. "It has to… surround. It has to wrap you up and tuck you in, and sing you a soft lullaby until you fall asleep, feeling protected. And safe. And warm. And comforted. For a brief moment you are… shielded in a circle of warmth and security and nothing… nothing… anyone can say or do will hurt you because you're completely immune to it all. You feel invincible. Sometimes you just need that kind of hug. And if you can't find it… if you search for it and can't find it… it all backfires and you're left feeling even more lost than you were before you started."

Ronon wasn't sure how to answer… or how to react. Her words were beautiful, and they'd surprised him. She'd spoken with such emotion, such sadness, that he'd actually felt the urge to grab her and pull her against him again, to tell her all the things she needed to hear. That he'd protect her. Keep her safe. And warm. And comforted. That he'd shield her from the universe and all it's evil as long as he breathed. For as long as she'd be his.

He wanted to tell her all these things. But the words remained locked inside. So he thought of a different question. One that made him wonder. Made him spark with a flare of jealousy.

"Why don't you just… ask someone?"

She shook her head quickly. "Oh. No, no. I can't. I mean… It's not something you can just… get anywhere. And certainly not here. It's not right." She let out a surprised laugh and made a face. "I wouldn't dare ask anyone here… There's no one who could… well… no one except…" The sidelong glance she awarded him left him feeling breathless. "Except… I… I mean, earlier. I just…" She stammered, looking quickly away. "And you're just…"

"What?" He prompted.

"You're very huggable." She whispered, her fingers clenching the railing with such force she was turning her knuckles white.

_What_?

_He was huggable? _

He blinked. Stared. And watched her face turn a dark shade of crimson as she stuttered to retract her bold statement.

"I'm sorry. That was… that was… very inappropriate." She pushed off the railing and stepped back. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm… I'm… I should take him back to my room. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I mean… I just… I didn't mean to do that… Please just forget everything. Just forget I said anything. Please…"

Forget? He could never forget.

The woman had just called him _huggable_.

And with a shot he connected the pieces of the puzzle of her admittance. She'd needed. She hadn't found. Until tonight. Until now. And _he_ had been the one – the only one – she'd asked?

She continued to back away but he caught her. Caught her before she could leave his reach. Caught her and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He felt her body stiffen with surprise, then suddenly slump with a soft sigh as she exhaled and slid her arms tightly around his torso, her fingers digging into the material of his shirt.

He rested his face against the top of her head, the scent of her filling his nostrils.

"So, if not here, then who else _do_ you hug?"

"Other than my Dad?" She shook her head quickly, her hair sliding against his cheek. "You… you'd be um… it."

He exhaled and smiled into the darkness.

"How long do these things last?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have… Again…" She muttered, squirming to push herself away.

"That was not a complaint." He held her by the arms, tilting his head. "It was only a question."

She hesitated, her eyes wide as she searched his face. He saw the worry and embarrassment in her expression and tugged her gently back into his embrace.

She slowly returned her arms to their tightly locked circle around his waist. Then she sighed, and he felt her body leaning into his, relaxing into his arms, letting him hold her upright. He marveled at how easily she trusted him to keep her from falling.

"How long do you have?"

"As long as you need."

For a few moments, they stood in silence on the balcony, unmoving in the soft glow of the sleeping city.

"What about next time?" She whispered.

"You'll know where to find me."

He felt the warmth of her laughter against the skin beneath the opening in his shirt and smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note; Originally this was just going to be a one-off for the LJ Challenge... but so many of you kind readers requested more, so here's another little installment. This time it's from Jen's POV - and I'm not sure I got into her head right, but hopefully you'll understand my writing style near the end where I completed her sentences in her head, but she doesn't say it out loud. If you like it I can add more... but... I guess you'll tell me! :)_

_This popped into my head while listening to the GooGooDolls song "Name" -- so feel free to give it a listen before or while you read it 'cause it seemed to flow with the idea._

_-Nika_

* * *

_And even though the moment passed me by  
__I still can't turn away_

She stood silent and still, alone in the shadows on the balcony, watching him. Unable to move. Unable to look away. She knew he'd be there. He always was. Because what had once been her private spot to hide, reflect, and bury her dead, was no longer private.

He was there.

They were all there.

But she didn't mind. They'd leave soon. And she could have her solitude. Not that she wanted them to leave. Just that they always did. Eventually.

Eyes open. She could see him – seated at the far side of the balcony. He lounged like a giant cat – with strength and grace. Away, he was power and fuel. A warrior. But here? Here he was… softer. Still coiled, still watchful, but he allowed the barriers to drop – if only slightly. Here he let those he called friends… inside. Inside to a place she wished, dreamed, she had the strength and courage to stand. But it was not to be. She was not invited.

Eyes closed. She could hear him – the laughter he gifted them with. How she loved that sound. It started deep in his chest – a low rumble of tension and release as the muscles in his torso danced. Then it moved higher, peeling away the layers of death and destruction, of too much seen and too much done, to reveal the young man, the boy, the child laughing at his friends, laughing at himself. It carried across the night air and brought a smile to her lips.

Face turned into the evening breeze. She could feel him – warmth and security, like a soft blanket surrounding her. He surrounded them all. Those he respected. Those he protected. Even the air reacted to his presence – a shift in energy – when he was near. She'd become more attune to the subtle changes in her skin when he was near. The sensual tingle across the back of her neck. The way her heart beat with a slightly sporadic rhythm. The way her fingers itched to linger whenever she touched him.

_Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose  
__Got tossed along the way_

_And letters that you never meant to send  
__Get lost or thrown away_

As a doctor it was her job to watch. Listen. Learn.

And she was very good at her job.

So she watched. And listened. And learned.

No one questioned his strength or endurance. But few people realized how incredibly intelligent he was. He had an amazing mind for detail, strategy, and analytics. None faulted his drive and determination, but few understood the loyalty and respect for his team that went with it. Everyone saw the barriers, but only a select number saw the wounded man beneath them.

She saw the way the men avoided him. A few out of respect. Most out of fear. He ignored them. He was used to it. He shouldn't have to be _used_ to it. He'd done so much. Given so much. He deserved a hero's welcome. Not the snide glares reserved for an outsider. It made her angry.

She saw the way the women watched him. The whispers behind his back. The sexual suggestions never said to his face. Then how those women avoided him – the flash of fear when he acknowledged their presence. The change in his eyes when he recognized that fear. It hurt him. She wanted to go after the women – tell them what she knew – but kept quiet. Some part of her wanting to keep him to herself. Because she knew the truth. Even if she'd never admit it aloud.

She wasn't afraid of him.

Would never be afraid of him.

She was afraid of herself.

_And now we're grown up orphans  
__That never knew their names_

_We don't belong to no one  
__That's a shame_

She lived under shadows of big men. Co-workers towering over her in stature and in attitude. Superiors who ignored her mind and penalized her for size. She was too small. Too young. Too quiet. Too female.

She'd built up so many of her own barriers she'd long ago lost the little girl who just wanted to help people. To save lives. To cure the hurt and make people better and know she was making a difference.

So she'd come here. And yes, she'd taken a leap of faith. She'd put everything behind her to do _something_. Something bigger than herself. To move past saving the people. Saving the world. To saving the galaxy.

To run away.

Because maybe here things would be different.

Maybe here – they wouldn't treat her like a child who wanted to play doctor. Maybe here she'd finally find a place where she could belong.

Or maybe it would just be a different kind of loneliness.

But at least it would be different.

_But if you could hide beside me  
__Maybe for a while_

_And I won't tell no one your name  
__And I won't tell 'em your name_

She'd done her best today. She always did her best.

But sometimes best didn't matter. She could have stood on her head and operated one handed and still they'd say she didn't deserve to be where she was.

Most day's she didn't care.

Today… well, it was one of the day's she did.

Maybe she couldn't do the job. Maybe she didn't deserve to be here. Maybe she should just go home.

Too tired to ignore them. Too weary to shrug it off.

Today she'd let them win.

_Scars are souvenirs you never lose  
__The past is never far  
__  
__Did you lose yourself somewhere out there  
__Did you get to be a star _

She closed her eyes and turned her face into the evening breeze.

Even he'd once said he believed she was weak. She didn't belong.

The words surprised her, but didn't. She'd always expected to hear them right before she was sent back to Earth. That in a galaxy where nothing was ordinary, she still wouldn't belong. She wasn't wanted there. She wasn't wanted here. She wasn't wanted.

She'd heard the words before. Even heard them tonight. Spoken behind her back. Then to her face. Men on her staff who had their own ideas on how she advanced as far as she had. Men who wondered just who she was sleeping with to get the job as CMO. Men who thought the job should have been theirs.

She expected it from them.

She had never expected it from him.

It cut. Deeply.

And then…

Three words. _I was wrong_. Three words she'd waited her life to hear – from men she'd thought greater. Men she'd believed to carry more weight. Three words she now carried around and used like a shield whenever someone tried to tell her she didn't belong. _I was wrong_.

His belief made her stronger.

_And don't it make you sad to know that life  
__Is more than who we are_

She could never tell him.

She should tell him.

Life here was too short. Too precious. He deserved to know. Deserved to see how much she cared about him. He'd been through so much. Lost so much. She wanted him to know the power that could be carried in three words. Wanted thank him.

But she couldn't.

How do you tell someone words said in passing, words they'd never remember saying, carried so much weight? How do you say thank you for being one of the _only_ people to talk _to_ you… not _at_ you? How do you tell someone what you really feel when all you can do is stare… and stutter… the minute you open your mouth? Wanting to say everything but being too much of a coward to let it out?

_You grew up way too fast  
__And now there's nothing to believe  
__And reruns all become our history _

_A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio  
__And I won't tell no one your name  
__And I won't tell em your name_

He deserved someone stronger. A warrior. Someone who could fight by his side and protect him. Someone strong and courageous. Someone he could share tales of battle with. Someone like Teyla.

She could never be what he needed.

What he deserved.

Yet there were days she couldn't stop herself from wishing. Wishing it was _her_ baby he held so protectively against his chest. Wishing it was _her_ child that made him smile with it's sounds and motions. Wishing it was _her_ face he smiled into as he returned the babe to his mother.

For a brief moment, inside that wish, inside that dream, she was happier than she'd ever thought possible. Then it would break and she'd be left feeling more confused, more alone, than she had before she'd lost herself.

_I think about you all the time  
__But I don't need the same _

_If it's lonely where you are come back down  
__And I won't tell em your name_

Chairs scraping. Parting laughter. Fading footsteps then silence.

Fighting away a shiver, she tightened her arms around her torso and stepped out of the shadows. The soles of her bare feet were starting to feel the sting of the cold and she lifted first one, then the other, to rub them against the flannel hem of her pajama bottoms.

A whisper blew across the bare skin of her lower back and she smiled to herself. He was standing beside her, and she hadn't even heard him move.

"One of these days…" She laughed at herself for jumping. And for once again letting him sneak up on her.

He smiled.

And she lost all coherent thought.

She wasn't sure how long she stared but his direct gaze brought the familiar flush to her cheeks and she looked away. But only for a moment before she risked looking back. She could literally feel the heat radiating off his body against her bare arm as she used the balcony railing for support.

"You okay?" He asked, tilting his head to look more directly into her eyes.

She loved the way his eyes changed color. Deep emerald green. Passion. Swirls of hazel. Emotion. She wished it were lighter so she could see what color they were right now.

"Doc?" He placed his hand over hers, covering it completely.

She blinked, and shook her head. "Sorry." She stared down at his hand. "I'm just…" _your hand is so warm _"I'm just… tired I guess."

"The surgery went well?"

She nodded. It had taken hours to remove all the shrapnel from Lieutenant Miller's backside. He was still critical, but hopes were high.

"We did all we could." She said softly. "It's up to him now."

She flipped his hand over, placing her palm against his and smiling at the difference in size – the length of his fingers against hers. The darker tone of his skin against her pale complexion. She smiled at his raised eyebrow and released his hand.

"How about you?" She looked up into his face, not surprised when he looked away.

"What about me?"

"How are you doing?" She knew they'd come close to losing men today. Very close. She didn't know all the details, but what she did manage to learn before Lieutenant Miller was rushed into surgery was they'd stumbled into an ambush set by wraith worshippers and had barely made it back in one piece.

Ronon hadn't come to the infirmary.

So she'd worried. Because sometimes he liked to hide his injuries if there was someone he felt more deserving of the medical attention.

"Well?" She prompted.

He shrugged.

"That's not much of an answer." She leaned further out over the railing, standing on her toes to angle herself so she could see his face. He immediately stepped back and pulled her away from the edge.

He dropped his arms and lowered himself onto a bench a few feet away.

Sitting down beside him, she pulled her knees up to her chest. The bench was small enough to begin with – adding his size, she had little room to move where she wasn't touching some part of his body. She tucked herself tighter, but resisted the urge to move away. If anything she leaned closer.

"You've been out here for a while." She said softly.

"So have you." He answered with a knowing look.

She shrugged.

"Not much of an answer." He said, raising an eyebrow.

She made a face as he repeated her words. They sat in silence for a few moments, her mind wandering through a dozen questions. Topics of conversation. Things to say. Things to ask. Things to keep him here. She opened her mouth several times, then had to close it because nothing sounded right.

Finally she turned to face him. "You didn't want to join them?" She wondered why he hadn't left with the others – with his friends. They'd asked him too, but he'd declined. She was curious.

"No." He turned towards her. "I was waiting for you."

"Oh. I… Really?" _He what?_ Not that she wasn't elated. Okay shocked. All right, elated _and_ shocked. But… "Why? Is something wrong?"

With a hand on his upper arm her eyes immediately scanned his body for any indication of injury.

He smiled and shook his head. "I'm fine. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Make sure I was… Me? Really? Why…" _would you want to?_ "Who…" _said I needed checking up on? _"Did Dr. Matterson say something?" _The jerk sure said enough to me today…_

"Dr. Matterson?" He frowned.

She shook her head, pushed away the embarrassment and swirled back to the main point of the conversation. "So… why are you checking up on me?"

"I shouldn't?"

"No. I mean. Yes. I…" _I like it._ "You just… surprised me."

"Why would it surprise you?"

"Because…" _Besides my Dad, no one has ever offered to check up on me. _"It's _my_ job to check up on people. Not the other way around."

"I know." He said quietly.

"You know?" _Know what?_ "I don't understand."

"If you check up on everyone else… who checks up on you?" He turned to face her, his voice whispering goosebumps across her skin.

"I…" _want to cry but... _"Why would…" _you want to check up on me?_ "Why would you…" _take the time…_

"I meant what I said the other day."

"The other day?"

_You'll know where to find me._

"Oh. Oh!" Her face flushed and she released her legs, standing up quickly and baking away. "Oh. No. That's not…" _why I came. _"I just wanted…" _to see you. _"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Ronon rose slowly and matched her step for step until she stopped abruptly, her back against the railing. He placed his hands next to hers and leaned closer, trapping her.

She stared straight ahead, her eyes locked on the bare patch of skin at the opening of his shirt.

She inhaled sharply. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply…" _that I wanted something…_ "I…" _can't think. _"I wasn't looking for you…" _for that reason…_ "Well, okay I _was_ looking for you, but I wasn't going to ask…"

"Doc?"

She snapped her mouth closed but her brain kept adding in more sentences.

_Yes, sure, I could use a hug. I mean I really, really could use a hug. It's been a shitty day, but my day is nothing compared to yours and I feel so stupid thinking that just because Mr. rude and obnoxious Matterson says I slept my way to the top makes my day worse than yours when you guys could have died out there… I mean really died, and I was worried when you didn't come see me, because you always come see me, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and I knew you'd be here…_

"Doc?"

_You said that out loud._

"Please tell me I didn't just say that out loud?" She mumbled into the front of his shirt, tightening her grip around his waist as the reality of her position finally sank in.

"You didn't just say that out loud?" She felt his chest rumble slightly with the withheld laughter.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her head rubbing against the underside of his chin.

"It's okay." He pulled her closer and she relaxed against him. Feeling his strength, his life, his warmth.

"No," She whispered. "It's not. I came here for _you_. Not for me."

"I know."

"Then why?" _are you still here?_

"_Are_ you okay?" He asked softly, his breath a whisper against the side of her forehead.

She nodded.

"Then I'm okay."

She smiled against his shirt and snuggled deeper.

"Doc?" He said after a few moments.

"Hmm?"

"Who's Dr. Matterson?"


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - Okay here's 2 more chapters - and I wanted to note that I wrote John and Lorne's chapter's differently becuase it seems to me they think differently and therefore their inside voice should come out a little differently. :) I like to think of Lorne as having more of a humourous outlook on things. So hoepfully you don't mind the switch in style. The next chapter will be back to Jen and Ronon (yum) - and I really think you'll like what happens. The next posting should be the final chapters so you don't have to keep waiting! _

_- Nika_

* * *

_You don't actually think she got here on skills, do you? I mean… come on… think about it. It's the only explanation. Seventeen years of exemplary military medical service and I get passed over for a tight little ass with nothing more to her resume than a few good grades? She's definitely doing someone on the IOA. Maybe more than one. One of these days I'm going to find out for myself, hmm? Get me a little CMO action? She's got about as much to offer this expedition as a call girl. I mean seriously! I'm fully qualified on firearms, top of my survival training class, I've got years in the field, and what's she got? Tits._

John Sheppard stood on the balcony, watching the lightning flash across the night sky, illuminating the city with sun-like flashes. A long, loud rumble surged and faded, the vibration rippling across his skin.

He felt an inner turmoil building. The overheard conversation surged through his consciousness and his stomach rolled in response to the flash of anger. He rode it out, letting it wash over him with another lightning burst.

Matterson was an ass.

But Matterson wasn't his ass to deal with.

And therein lay the problem.

He'd almost stepped up to the doctor and called him out – but Woolsey had taken that exact moment to appear out of nowhere rambling about late performance reviews, and the opportunity had become lost in a paperwork dance of epic proportions.

So John let it go.

But it wasn't forgotten.

If there was _one_ – in a long list of many – things John Sheppard despised, it was men who couldn't deal with women in power simply because of gender.

It had been a woman who'd pulled him out of a frozen wasteland, and trusted him with something no man had ever offered – his own command. A woman, with all her Ancient secrets, grace, and power, who sheltered them inside her massive towers and city like structure. And it was a woman, sensual and exotic, who'd given him back his heart.

Nope. John Sheppard had no problem with women in rightful places of power.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, smiling with the surfaced memory.

"_Carson and I both agreed that should anything happen to him, Dr. Keller was his first choice." Elizabeth confided, after he'd subtly inquired as to her confidence in appointing a seemingly overly-shy woman as the new CMO. _

_Elizabeth accused him of having issues with it because Dr. Keller was female. Which he firmly denied. After all, he had no issues with Elizabeth being a woman. _

_That had earned him a hearty laugh._

"_Does she know?" He'd asked. _

"_Does Lorne?" Elizabeth replied, referring to a similar conversation they'd held where he'd chosen his successor. _

"_Touché."_

"_She's the CMO, John." Elizabeth smiled, giving him one of her signature single eyebrow raises, and daring him to argue. When he smartly kept his mouth shut, she simply told him to watch. Watch, learn, and understand. _

So he had.

Then he'd understood.

He saw how incredibly gifted the doctor was in the operating room. Her passion. Her fire. An intelligence in the world of medicine and healing that rivaled McKay's gift for technology.

But more importantly – Dr. Jennifer Keller had an uncanny ability to tame even the most feral feline. Carson moved people through respect, but they pushed back. Jennifer moved them through magic and they obeyed her like the pied-piper. Marines showed up on time for inoculations and checkups. Pilots followed her instructions on care and medication. Scientists paid attention because she would give them fully detailed explanations to compliment their neurotic persona's. Hell she even had the biggest, meanest son-of-a-bitch this side of the milky way taking her infirmary orders with no hesitation, and… well… rather meekly if John had to choose a single word to describe it.

And she did it all without ever raising her voice.

_That_ took some kind of talent.

Of course, it certainly didn't hurt that their CMO was beautiful. Not at all. She was soft and curvy with the kind of voice you ached to hear calling your name, and a smile that made you feel like everything really _was_ going to be all right. The kind of woman most men could only dream of coming home to. And of course, with the overly large male population in a seriously testosterone infected galaxy, most of the men on the base tried… and she turned them down with such grace and politeness they left feeling so good about themselves they weren't even aware she'd said no.

He had a pretty damn good idea _why_ she was turning them all down. And exactly which feral cat left her so impressively immune to the charms of so many others.

If John wasn't already madly lost in someone else… he might have seen for himself just how immune she really was… but then? Well, then John supposed he would have to answer to the aforementioned biggest, meanest, son-of-a-bitch… even if the big idiot didn't realize just how infatuated he was with her yet.

John smiled to himself and jammed his hands further into his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

This, of course, brought about his second question of the night.

How long before those two finally figured out what the rest of his team had known for months?

* * *

Performance reviews sucked.

She hated receiving them. Hated giving them.

They were stupid.

And useless.

And a waste of precious time.

There was no room on a silly, three page questionnaire to describe how someone who had issues with time management, was able to successfully triage and stabilize eight marines filled with bullet holes until help arrived without losing a single life. There was no space to detail the nurse, who was never on time for a shift, coincidentally rushed past a lab at the exact moment someone was going into anaphylactic shock thus saving the poor man's life. There was no form that could describe how a doctor, who barely said two words to anyone, was able to confidently and accurately describe a course of action to a room full of his peers in time to save an entire village full of women and children from a poisoned grain supply.

But despite her reservations and immense dislike for the entire procedure, she'd finished them all. Interviewed the entire staff personally. Provided solid examples. Positive peer input. Positive comments and solutions to any problem. Listened and discussed.

Yes, she'd completed them all weeks ago.

All except one.

And like everyone else in command she'd quietly queried, she'd left the hardest for last.

The one who wasn't getting positive comments. No peer input. No compliments. No platitudes on a job well done. There would be nothing other than a shape-up-or-ship-out order because his egocentric and cavalier attitude had nearly cost several people their lives. And that was just this month.

He was an embarrassment to the department, a menace to his patients, and he hated her guts.

Dr. Eli Matterson.

Six-feet of pissed-off surgeon, who's face was currently hovering inches from hers, sputtering his threat in a voice so low it made her teeth ache.

While all the blood in his body seemed to be rushing to his cheeks, hers was quickly leaving her head, leaving her feeling a little lightheaded.

She knew he'd be angry – expected it in fact - but something inside him was slowly snapping and she felt a momentary flash of fear at knowing she _should_ have asked Woolsey to attend. But no - she'd wanted to show the new boss she had what it took to complete the assignment on time, and as requested.

Her radio hung tauntingly in her ear – useless without her hands, which were currently being crushed into the desk under his.

But she shouldn't _need_ to call for assistance. This was _her_ infirmary. And _he_ was a _doctor_ under _her_ command. A _surgeon_. Someone who'd spent years saving lives.

But as his whispered words echoed around inside her head, she realized he was also someone who expected to get more than he'd received, and what he received was apparently a lot less than he thought he deserved.

Her heart skipped a beat with the dawning understanding that Eli Matterson was a very big man, with a very big ego, and a very big temper. A tempest of anger that was the cause for the _only_ bad performance review she'd had to write.

A performance review she now very much regretted being foolish enough to give alone.

Her fingernails dug into the edge of the desk as she leaned away from the press of his body, her back aching with the strain of the angle, palms stinging with the added weight of his upper body. He towered over her, pressing his face closer, never quite touching, the intimate madness flowing off him as he invaded her space. His mouth met her ear and he whispered, the threat shivering down through her spine. She inhaled and held it, willing the air to give her strength.

"Eli, enough." She increased the angle at which she was leaning and tried to use her calm voice, cursing when it came out as much more of a squeak.

A throat cleared behind them and she saw the flash of fury in his eyes before it was replaced with a sudden calm. He exhaled and showed his teeth, the insanity of the moment blowing away on his coffee scented breath.

With a shockingly light kiss to her cheek, he whispered "We'll finish this later." Then he straightened, and she felt a surge of dizziness when his energy finally released her.

Turning, Matterson nodded a seemingly casual greeting to the man standing in the doorway, and left her office with nary a glance.

-

John watched Matterson's quick kiss followed by his relaxed retreat, and in a blink decided that to anyone else, it would have looked like he'd interrupted a little dalliance between doctors hidden behind the half closed door of the CMO's office.

The _un_informed saw a woman caught in the flush of romance. Eyes staring – wide and unblinking as she watched Matterson's backside disappear out through the infirmary. Breath coming in shortened gasps. Her face flushed with something akin to embarrassment at being caught unawares. Hands clenched tightly together – a reflex against having just had them somewhere she shouldn't.

To the _informed_, however, someone who'd previously overheard a very interesting rant, and… to someone who was pretty damn good at reading body language, John knew Jennifer was most definitely _not_ feeling very romantic. Eyes wide and unblinking… she was most definitely upset about something. Her breath caught and exhaled sharply, her shoulders dropping with relief in equal relation to the distance Matterson was putting between them. Her hands weren't clenched so much as rubbing, and rubbing usually signified pain.

"Doc?" He waited.

And he understood.

Eli Matterson had just done something very, very inappropriate.

But how far? John had only seen a bent body and a peck on the cheek.

"Doc?" He repeated, sidestepping to place himself directly in her line of vision, yet coming no closer. "You okay?"

She blinked. Refocused on him. Blinked again.

Then shook her head.

"You're _not_ okay?" He angled his head, looking for confirmation.

"What? No. I…" She exhaled, her voice only slightly breathier than it usually was, but her smile a little brighter than it needed to be. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"

In her eyes he saw relief. Pure and simple. He studied her face, wanting to ask, but knowing he wouldn't. Not yet, at least.

He held up the small duffel bag he was carrying in his left hand. "Forgot this earlier when I came in. Saw the light on. You're here late. Performance reviews?" His voice casual, he angled his chin towards the stack of papers on her desk.

"Yes. Last one." She nodded and turned towards the paperwork. "Thankfully."

"Matterson?"

She nodded and he saw her eyes quickly dart over his shoulder into the empty infirmary.

He stepped back and moved aside as she locked the papers in her desk and dimmed the lights. Leaving the infirmary with her, they spoke casually of their mutual dislike for paperwork, and equally strong aversion to performance reviews in particular. John managed to do a good impression of chatty-McKay as he accompanied her, keeping the conversation light, then nodding a quick good night as she disappeared into her quarters.

Pausing in the hallway outside her closed door, he first turned towards his own quarters, thinking of rechecking his gear for their off-world trip tomorrow, but hesitated. His mind attempting to connect a few dots, and coming up with nothing specific.

Turning in the opposite direction he headed off down the hall.

Packing could wait.

There was someone he needed to talk to first.


	4. Chapter 4

Every time Evan Lorne swung by the infirmary, he became more and more convinced that he needed to take his CO to the sparring mat and punch him right in the nose. Unofficially, of course.

_Just keep an eye on her…_ Sheppard had asked. _Nothing in particular… just a feeling… you know her luck… We'll be back in a few days… peek in on her once in a while…_

"Just a feeling, my ass…" Evan muttered to himself, settling into the chair outside her office that was starting mould to his backside. He'd done what he was asked. He'd popped by, but 'popping by' turned into to loitering which became the hanging out that developed into a full-time watch.

The longer he followed her, the longer he questioned the unofficial request, and the longer he wondered if he needed to bring in reinforcements.

Dr. Keller wasn't just having bad luck.

She was having Rodney McKay level evil karma of the damned.

Or, hell, maybe _he_ was having the bad luck.

Although technically, he really wasn't in any position to question someone's luck, including his own.

Heaven and Hell knew he'd had more than his share of horseshoes in this galaxy. Space vampires. Brain controlling worms. Flowers that would eat you just as soon as spit poisonous sap that could burn through six inches of steel in less than three seconds. Fuzzy little bunnies that could devour a mountain lion. Bugs that sucked the life out of you before turning you into one of them.

Yep. In this place, only the karma-crazed seemed destined to survive anyway.

So when he tallied up everything he'd discovered over the past 72 hours, he had to give her a thumbs up for keeping it together as long as she had.

And while he was at it, he gave himself a much needed pat on the back because it had been one hell of a three-day stint as her impromptu bodyguard.

Oh sure it started casually enough.

Then it went to hell faster than you could say "Pegasus".

On Tuesday, only a few hours after SGA-1 stepped through the gate, two of Zelenka's pet lab mice went missing. Just after lunch, both turned up in Dr. Keller's desk drawer. She'd casually put both of them into her pocket and returned them to the worried scientist. Apparently, as Evan discovered, Sasha and Misha were Radek's favorites, although the reasoning behind naming and taming lab mice seemed to be way over Evan's head. But Zelenka was happy. And Jennifer didn't seem to mind the added bonus of little nuggety poops in her pencil drawer. She just cleaned up and continued on.

The mouse-capade was shortly followed by a false alarm in the stock room. However the fail-safes on the main door to the stock room failed, jamming the door a few feet from the ceiling before the safety locks disengaged, sending the door screaching to the floor. If he hadn't grabbed Jennifer by the lapels and yanked her out from under the quarantine level metal door, she could have been seriously injured or even killed. It took several hours and most of Zelenka's team to figure out how to release the door, and reset it, this time with the safety features on.

Shortly after supper, the stockroom experienced a bizarrely co-incidental failure in not one, but two of the shelving units, nearly crushing Jennifer beneath a combination of supplies and a three hundred pound backup component to the ancient bio-scanner. Again, quick reaction to the sudden snapping of both legs and she avoided being pancaked. He, however, received a half dozen stitches to the back of his shoulder where the edge of a shelf sliced through his t-shirt while he was shoving her out of the way. He also got a hug, but wasn't about to add that to the tally for fear of future injury by a certain member of SGA-1.

The overnight staff repaired the shelves and put the stockroom back together, apparently incorrectly, as the personnel soon discovered the next morning nothing was in its assigned spot, medicines were missing, and boxes of supplies were haphazardly spun sideways. Despite the assurances of the staff they most definitely put everything back on it's pre-labeled position, the room was just as much of a mess as before – only at least this time, the shelves were still standing.

By noon Jennifer was removing shards of glass from the backside of a marine who'd been standing between her and a rack of glass beakers. Apparently Dr. Kali's experiment received the wrong mix of chemicals due to the afore mentioned supply room mix-up. If the marine's upper body hadn't blocked the glass, Jennifer would have been looking directly at the explosion. Captain Christenson's TAC vest took most of the shrapnel, but a few pieces did land the unlucky man face down on a gurney with his ass numbed and wrapped in gauze.

By suppertime on day 2, the everything appeared to be back to normal and running smoothly, until a container of honeybees from the biology lab was some-how left open and half-a-dozen DNA enhanced flying death-traps made it into the ventilation system, which unfortunately lead directly into infirmary via the CMO's office. With a hindsight praise of whatever god prompted him to do it, Evan had practically dragged Jennifer to the mess hall just to prove to himself she'd actually had something to eat in the past 24 hours. And so he could feed his own face without letting her out of his sight. So, luck, gods, or hunger have it, she wasn't anywhere near her office when the confused and pissed-off collection of buzzing insects swarmed around behind the lock door, attacking and eventually killing each other out of spite.

It had taken almost an hour to figure out the puzzle of six dead cockroach-sized bees scattered about her tiny office, and once they had, she'd turned such a fantastically pale sheet of white he'd been completely convinced she was either going to pass out, or throw up. Then she surprised him, again, but doing neither. Although she did thankfully call it a night, which made him very happy, because he wasn't sure how much more adrenaline his system could take outside of a combat situation.

Morning of day three found him waiting for her outside her room before she'd even stepped foot into the hallway. And he had to hand it to her. Despite the fact that her fingers shook slightly as she clutched a stack of file folders, she seemed really rather relieved to see him. He hoped to hell he wasn't giving her the wrong impression, but Sheppard _had_ ordered him to secrecy. He made a joke about wanting to ensure she made it to the infirmary in one piece and she started to laugh.

Then the call came for her immediate presence in the infirmary and all good nature was forgotten.

Several hours later she emerged from a complicated emergency appendectomy only to be told most of their morphine supplies were missing and most likely misplaced or mislabeled in the supply room. By suppertime she'd assisted in re-shelving and cataloguing the entire stock and as far as they could figure, only two crates were still unaccounted for. The missing morphine, and an unopened box of plastic bedpans.

When Dr. Nugasaki's request came over his radio, Evan didn't bother trying to figure out why someone would think keeping a seven foot long flesh-eating python in stasis was a good idea. Or who thought turning off the power to said serpentine stasis unit was an equally brilliant idea. He just shrugged and suggested that instead of doing a room to room search, Dr. Nugasaki simply come down to the infirmary, since it seemed to now be the center of the universe for unfortunate acts of bad luck.

Sure enough, the giant creature was happily coiled up under the blankets on the bed next to a very upset – and reasonably so – Captain Christenson. Discovering your bunk mate might have eaten you during the night while you were lying immobilized with your ass in the air would bother just about any warm blooded mortal.

Evan included.

It was close to 24:00 when she finally called it a night, and he damn near kissed her out of sheer joy. Debating the ramifications of throwing himself at the CMO, no matter how pretty _she_ was, or how relieved _he_ was, battled out inside his mind and he decided it would be safer to just smile.

And smile he did.

As he escorted her back to her quarters, he considered asking Dr. Nugasaki if he had any _non_-flesh-eating creatures, because there was a certain CO's bed who might offer the serpent nice comfy sleeping spot. Oh, payback was going to bring such joy…

At 03:00, when his sleep of the dead was interrupted with the information that Dr. Keller had been called back to the infirmary to check on her appendectomy patient, he hauled his ass out of bed and dressed in record time.

Reaching the infirmary, he found the lights dimmed for the early hour, and aside from the two sleeping patients, there was no sign of anyone else. No night-nurse, and no Jennifer. A muffled scraping from the stock room pulled his attention and he hoped, no prayed, the two women weren't doing yet another search for the missing bedpans.

With a shake of his head he crossed the infirmary and entered the dimly lit stockroom, his eyes automatically moving to the ceiling and the large hole where one of the lighting fixtures should have been. As his mind and body automatically reacted the flash of light to his right - he dove to the side and reached for a revolver he wasn't carrying because he'd just gotten out of bed, and was only planning to check up on the good doctor, not get himself into a firefight in the damn stock room - he felt a sharp pain exploding in his shoulder moments before he slammed into the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

"We've only been gone for three days!" John's voice carried sharply across the floor of the gate room, stopping the others in their tracks, and wiping away the unseen wave of relief at being back home.

With complete synchronization, Ronon, Teyla and Rodney all turned back towards their commander, who was standing in front of Captain Kagan. John's posture – feet spread, shoulders back, head angled, hands gripping the stock of the P90 – pretty much accented the tone of his voice.

Sheppard was pissed.

Ronon stepped forward, one of his strides equaling two of Teyla and Rodney's, but both matched him for speed this time.

John's eyes flashed as he spun on his heel and parted them like a plow, immediately followed by a chagrined Kagan.

Ronon didn't bother to ask, and although Teyla tried, and Rodney muttered a question about putting his gear away before they had to solve the next crisis, they simply followed the Colonel as he sped walked down the hallway.

Their trip had been uneventful. Boring. Mundane. But it was time away. And those hours seemed to draw long and deep with this mission. He'd found himself wanting to return almost as soon as they'd left but unsure of why.

His stomach was telling him there was a reason for his wariness at leaving. As he captured muttered curses when John's voice echoed pieces of what Kagan had been waiting to tell him, Ronon judged both from John's direction and under-breath comments, they were heading to the infirmary to visit Major Lorne.

Because time of day did not calculate directly with gate travel, they'd left PX3-255 just after breakfast, but it was still the middle of the night on Atlantis. Where hallways and corridors should have been empty, the area around the medical wing was a flurry of activity.

It was far to early in the city's day for it to be this busy. What the hell was going on?

A pair of Marines guarded the entrance to the infirmary. Inside, another pair stood outside of the storage rooms. With a muttered _what did they break now_, McKay brushed past him as he made a beeline for the group of scientists crowding the inside of stock room.

Two more Marines within reach of a curtained off bed at the far end of the room beaconed them forward. John was already at the edge of the curtain when Ronon glanced down at Teyla. Her eyes darted from the scientists in the stock room, to the Marine's guarding the doors before sliding up to his, a mix of concern and curiosity flickering in their depths.

Ronon's thoughts – and worry - immediately shifted to Jennifer, but it was Lorne's name Sheppard had mentioned, not hers. From behind the curtain, he heard her soft whisper, and felt a stab of relief. Although he wasn't yet sure why he should be feeling relief. Relief from what? His eyes once again took in the guards and he didn't like the feeling that was starting to build low in his abdomen. They'd missed something. Something big.

Parting the ends of the material he made room for Teyla before stepping into view himself.

Major Lorne was asleep – with the aid of some heavy drugs judging by how solidly he was out despite the commotion going on around him. His upper body was bare except for the area surrounding his left shoulder, which was wrapped tightly in a layer of gauze and bandages.

Standing next to the bed, Jennifer shifted position, turning towards Colonel Sheppard. Ronon watched her eyes seeing the flash of relief in the hazel depths before she buried it under a darker seriousness. He inhaled sharply, the directness of her emotion not lost. He noted the subconscious pat her fingers made on the sleeping Major's arm before she pulled away and led them to the back corner of the infirmary.

"No, no, no." Rodney's voice echoed as he exited the stock room accompanied by Zelenka. "I'm telling you, the vents in biology do not connect to the infirmary!"

"Yes, yes, Rodney, I know that. The question is…" Zelenka retorted, the rest of his reply lost as the two men hurried into the hallway and disappeared.

All eyes turned back to Jennifer as she leaned against a supply table and crossed her arms tightly around her middle, exhaling with a sigh. The soft, sad sound pained him.

"Where do I even begin?" Her eyes rolled towards the ceiling and she shook her head. "It's been a crazy couple of days."

"How 'bout you start where we left off?" John suggested, shrugging out of his P90 and vest and dropping them onto the empty bed beside him.

Ronon saw the sudden shift in her stature as her shoulders jerked and she stared at the Colonel.

_Where they left off? Left off with what?_

Jennifer finally nodded, and taking a deep breath, with a calmness that surprised them all, explained everything that had gone on over the past couple of days. By the time she was finished, both she and Teyla were sitting on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, Teyla's soft words of surprise and concern comforting obviously exhausted doctor.

Ronon's spine ached with the coiled up tension that was radiating through his body, and John's stature reflected an equal amount of concern and unease.

"All this happened in _three_ days?" John's voice echoed his disbelief.

Jennifer nodded, her hand covering a yawn. "Sorry." She waved her hand apologetically. "And yes."

"Okay… so what the hell happened to Lorne?"

At this her eyes widened and flickered back to the curtained wall. She shook her head. "I have no idea. I…" her face flushed and she looked down at her hands, which were clutched tightly in her lap. She inhaled then looked up again, her eyes meeting Sheppard's. "I had to go to the bathroom. I was only gone for five minutes, tops. When I came back, I… I found him bleeding all over the stock room. He's going to be fine." She assured them. "The bullet was a through and through. Missed everything vital. It's just…" She shook her head and shrugged again. "I just don't understand. Why? Why would someone want to shoot him? Who'd do such a thing? There's no one here but… us!"

And by _us_ she need not expand. The only person who could have shot Major Lorne was someone on the base. Someone inside Atlantis.

John's head turned towards the curtained area and his voice dropped. "Don't worry Doc. _That_ is what we're going to find out."

* * *

Ronon walked beside her, the silence eating away at him. Falling equipment, missing supplies, bees and snakes, it sounded like one of those bad movies Sheppard and McKay were always touting. She'd made it all sound so… casual. As though nearly being killed in your own office – more than once - was a regular occurrence.

They needed to talk to Lorne. But the drugs wouldn't be wearing off for a few hours yet, so until then, they'd just have to wait to find out what really happened in that supply room.

Ronon frowned. Sheppard was holding something back. He could see the calculations running in the Colonel's mind behind the distracted, half-paying-attention narrow eyed stare. John heard everything Jennifer had said. They all had. But somehow, Ronon knew John was adding in his own pieces of the puzzle, forming a more complete picture than he was currently willing to share. It irked him to be left out, but he understood Sheppard hated speculation. And it wasn't as though he himself didn't have his own unfounded theories. As soon as he had Jennifer safely situated behind locked doors, he'd track the Colonel down and have a little head to head. Because if everything she'd said was true, and he had no doubt it was, there was a good chance that bullet wasn't necessarily meant for Evan.

A fact that apparently wasn't missed on Sheppard since he'd damn near _ordered_ Ronon to see her safely back to her quarters. An unnecessary request since Ronon had absolutely no intention of letting her wander the halls alone, and he had half a mind to search her room for snakes, bees, broken shelves or anything else out of the ordinary before he left her to get what was obviously going to be some much needed rest.

Her yawn broke the silence and she laughed, the low sound distracting him from his internal tirade. He glanced down, relieved to see a flash of humor cross her features as they reached her quarters.

"You okay?" He asked as they stopped in front of her door. His question made her laugh, which in turn made him smile. He liked the sound of her laughter, and decided he greatly despised anything or anyone who would rob her of it.

"Guess I should have asked that sooner?" He shrugged.

She shook her head and swiped her hand over the access panel. The doors swished open and she backed into her room, her head tilted back so she could look up into his face. "It's fine… just delayed gratification… and a little bit of the giggles. Adds to the rest of my week so far."

He hesitated in the doorway, his eyes surveying the room, part of him looking for anything dangerous, another part simply curious. He noted the neatly feminine touches, light colors, a photo of an older man next to her bed… a bed which was completely stripped bare of any bedding… which made him frown… because she'd said she'd been pulled out of bed shortly before three to return to the infirmary and hadn't been back, but this most certainly did not look like a bed that had been slept in by anyone recently… so if she wasn't sleeping here… then where… and _who_ with? He caught a faint scent of something that didn't belong to her… something sharper… more… male, and his nostrils flared.

He couldn't stop the tightness that coiled around his abdomen as his mind continued to strip away layers of what he was seeing. When he finally returned his gaze to hers, she was staring into her bathroom with a decidedly pink flush to her cheeks, madly gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip. When her face quickly snapped up to his, he found her eyes, but it wasn't embarrassment reflected there… it was wariness. And fear.

_Fear_.

It snapped the spring holding him in place and he stepped forward, angling his head towards her bathroom, his hand automatically landing next to his holster, fingers wrapping around the comfort of the familiar handle.

"Ronon, wait." Distantly, he could feel her touch on the side of his arm, tugging at him, but the scene inside the small bathroom took almost all his cognitive abilities away.

The layout and equipment matched most of the facilities in the crew quarters – his included - but in this case, a decidedly different feature made his mind spin with unanswered questions.

Sheets, pillows, and blankets.

_She'd been sleeping in the bathtub?_


	6. Chapter 6

It was a simple thing, knowing he was home. A simple thing that brought a complex twist of emotions. He'd come back. It gave her such relief from the insanity of the past three days, she wanted to laugh, cry, then laugh some more. Time weathered away, wiped clean with the comfort of his nearness.

The walk back to her quarters brought the mental and physical exhaustion to the forefront, her body unwilling to keep up the pretense with such a strongly protective presence hovering so closely.

She'd laughed for the first time in days.

And all because he'd asked if she was okay.

She'd obviously lost her mind.

When she realized he was checking out her room, adrenaline shot through her body with a heart-palpitating jolt. She knew just what he would be seeing – and what wasn't going to be there. When he moved towards the bathroom she jumped forward. He'd know. She didn't want him to know. She didn't want _anyone_ to know.

She didn't want him to think badly of her. Wouldn't be able to stand the look on his face when he realized just how weak and scared and pathetic she really was. Because she _hadn't_ been handling things very well the past three days. She _hadn't_ been taking things in stride. She _hadn't_ casually ignored all the signs and shrugged them off.

And she most certainly hadn't told anyone what had been happening to her away from the infirmary. What was going on behind the closed doors of her quarters. What was slowly but surely turning her into a frightened ninny who'd taken to sleeping in her bathtub with a service pistol hidden under her pillow, the handle of which was …_oh god he'd seen it…_ currently peeking out from behind the corner of her comforter.

She couldn't do it. Couldn't meet his eyes. Her feet automatically propelled her backwards and she spun away, but not before his hand landed around her wrist.

"What," he growled, then lowered his voice, but only enough to take the edge off. "Is this for?"

She felt his grip tighten around her wrist but she couldn't look up. Couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes and find the one thing she knew would destroy the last bit of sanity she possessed. He pulled her around, his fingers tight, but not hurting. She heard a soft thunk and spotted the revolver lying on the table next to her bed.

When he straightened, his next move broke away the last bit of her strength. With his arms wrapped tightly around her, she found she could no longer stand on her own – and no longer wanted to. Sliding her arms tightly around his torso she didn't fight it when her knees buckled, didn't speak when he picked her up, didn't move when he sat down on the edge of her naked bed and held her tightly.

She didn't cry.

She'd shed every last tear two nights ago.

She just held on. Tightly. So very, very tightly. Taking all the heat and strength of will he was able to give.

That he didn't speak. Didn't ask. Didn't pelt her with questions gave her the courage to finally look up, and what she saw reflected in the hazel green wasn't the pity and disappointment she expected. Instead he was regarding her with concern… concern and something decidedly more primal. His face was only inches from hers, close enough she could feel the soft warmth of his breath against her lips. His gaze was strong and steady, his eyes holding onto hers with a lifeline.

She tried to speak, suddenly feeling so lost she wanted to tell him everything. Throw it all up into the air and let someone else carry it around for a while. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She tried again, unable to pull out even a squeak of sound.

Eyes squeezed shut, she dropped her forehead against the side of his jaw.

"Talk to me." He said, his voice a soft whisper against her skin.

She hesitated, the tightness in her chest increasing as her physical form gave her the answer to the question of whether or not she should say anything. She felt her arms tighten around his upper body in preparation for a story she was probably now going to have to tell more than once. If she told Ronon, she'd have to tell Sheppard. And if she told Sheppard, then she'd have to tell Woolsey. And Woolsey would tell the IOA, and the paperwork would follow, documentation and support, and by the time the grapevine finished…

"Tell me what's wrong." He tried again. "Please."

It was the please that finally got her.

She nodded against the side of his jaw. "Maybe you should put me down." She said, her fingers locking behind his back to keep him from letting go. "This could take a while."

He shook his head, his arms remaining firmly locked around her. With a slight shift in his weight, he slid himself sideways and leaned against the wall at the head of her bed. Her hands shifted out from behind his back but her fingers immediately claimed his biceps and dug in. She curled against him, hunching her shoulders and tucking her head under his chin, unable to let go, and unwilling to move away.

Eyes closed, she took a deep breath, and exhaled the phrase she'd carried around in her head for the past three days.

"Dr. Matterson is trying to kill me."

Ronon's body jerked with her confession, and he had to force himself to breath normally. He could feel the rapid beating of her heart beneath his palm and she seemed to shrink even further against him.

"Because of what's been happening in the infirmary?"

"No." She whispered. "That's just… just… okay I don't know what that is. That's just another day in the infirmary around here. Well, except for someone shooting Evan."

"You think he's trying to kill you, but you don't think he shot Lorne?"

She shook her head.

"No. I mean, yes. He couldn't. Didn't. Oh god." She buried her face against the front of his shirt and moaned. "It's so messed up in my head I can't even speak straight."

"Hey." He whispered, shifting his shoulders in an attempt to wrestle away the urge to hop out of bed and track down the mysterious Matterson for whatever he did, or didn't do, to have her so upset she was sleeping in the bathtub with a loaded revolver. "Just start at the beginning."

The calmness of his voice surprised even him.

Until she started speaking.

Then _calm_ became a word so distant he wondered if he'd ever find it again.

Jen exhaled and began as far back as she thought she could. Once the words began to flow, she found herself unable to stop them, pause them, or do anything but let it all fall out.

Eli Matterson was an egotistical jerk with a hate-on for his female superior. Her. She'd hadn't even made it past the first page of his performance review before his entire posture screamed anger-management-issues. By the time she'd hit page two, and asked if he had any questions, he was standing, looping a two step pace on the other side of her desk. Yet he waved her on, urged her to continue. When she finished page three, his pacing had agitated to head shaking and she'd stood up, nervous at being so far below his line of sight.

Apparently standing had been a really, really bad idea because he'd stepped around her desk, and forced her out the other side, circling like a bird of prey until he had her effectively herded against the front of her desk. She'd tried to reason with him, suggest he might want to think it over and perhaps come up with some of his own suggestions before signing, but each recommendation seemed to aggravate the situation further – whatever the situation was. After sputtering out reasons why he should have been chosen CMO, how dare she try to tell him what his job was, who the hell did she think she was, and further implying just how he'd deduced she'd arrived at her position of CMO, his body was half covering hers as he bent her across the desk. She rode out his anger, bent under his tirade, and waited for him to realize how far he was going and pull back. But when he suddenly stilled, his voice low in her ear, it was then she felt the fear that was splitting her in half.

_Don't even think of handing this in to Woolsey. I'll see you dead first._

The words he'd whispered right before her office door opened. When he realized he had an audience, Eli smiled, straightened and kissed her cheek with a frighteningly cold "we'll finish this later."

When she stopped speaking to take a few deep, steadying breaths, she realized that she was to recognize the subtle shift in his body language. The twitch in his arms as she talked. The tensing of muscle across his abdomen. The clench of his jaw against the side of her forehead. He was barely holding himself down and she understood the only thing keeping him on her bed… was her.

She leaned her head back and for the first time since he'd pulled her onto his lap, she looked into his face. And what she saw there both frightened her, and comforted her.

Raw, primal emotion.

For her.

_Because_ of her.

He looked ready to dump her onto the bed, track down Matterson, and break him into tiny pieces.

She wouldn't be able to stop him from leaving.

The truth of that single thought made the room tilt with dizzying speed and she dug her fingers into his arm to keep herself upright.

"Please don't leave."

The whispered plea was off her lips before she realized she'd voiced it aloud.

The muscles in his chest contracted as he exhaled sharply. He blinked, his eyes darkening, a flash of surprise crossing his face.

His head shook. Quick, snapping movements that jiggled the twists of his hair, tickling the side of her neck.

"I won't leave until you're ready."

She let out the breath she'd been holding and studied his expression, unsure of the strange look that was playing behind his eyes, but understanding he'd given his word. He'd stay. For now.

She felt herself nodding, no words of thanks would ever be strong enough. The tension flowed out of her upper body and she collapsed against him, her chin dropping.

"Who walked into your office?" He finally asked, his arms shifting to pull her more firmly against his chest, her forehead resting against his cheek.

She closed her eyes and relaxed into him. "John."

"He let Matterson walk away." The statement was a low growl.

"No," She shook her head firmly. "_I_ let him walk away." _I'm to blame._ "I didn't… say anything to John. I don't know, maybe I should have. I just… I just wanted to give Eli the benefit of the doubt. He was angry. People say stuff like that all the time and don't mean it."

"If you didn't believe it, why are you sleeping in the bathroom with a gun under your pillow?"

And this time it was her body that tensed. "I… I didn't believe him at the time."

"But?"

"But I believe him now."

"Why?"

"I submitted his performance review the next morning."

"And?"

She shook her head, rolling her forehead across the side of his cheek.

"And?" He prompted, his arms giving her a gentle shake.

"That night. After the thing… with the quarantine door? He came into my room. While I was sleeping."

Ronon growled, and this time it wasn't a single muscle group that tensed beneath her, it was his entire body. She clung to his arms, hoping, praying he'd keep his word and stay because if she was going to finish telling him everything… she was going to be in serious need of a very big hug when it was all over.

"I don't lock my door. I mean, I didn't lock my door. Before. I just never thought…" _Never thought I'd be fighting someone in my sleep._ "It just never occurred to me that I needed to lock it."

"He hurt you?" Ronon's breath was so rhythmically steady beneath her, Jennifer knew he had to be concentrating very hard on keeping it that way.

She wasn't sure how to explain what happened that first night, so she decided to show him.

_._

_._

_._

_._

_A/N -- Sorry to leave it hanging but I couldn't finish the next part today and wanted to post this for you tonight. I'll try to get the next chunk done tomorrow 'cause I know how much of a pain the waiting is! _


	7. Chapter 7

Ronon felt the shift in weight as she lifted her head off his shoulder and met his gaze briefly before glancing at the small table to his right next to her bed. Leaning across his arm she reached for the small drawer and slid it open, extracting a small black object before settling back into his lap. He slid his arms back around her as she reclined against him.

In her palm she held what looked like a broken boot knife - a slick black handle with a silver edging. When she flicked her thumb, a length of silver blade snapped out of the side and locked into place.

"I won this from Cadman in a poker game." She said softly, using her palm to carefully push the blade back down into the side of the handle. "It's called a switchblade."

She held it out and he accepted it, mimicking her motion to snap the blade in place. It was sharp and sturdy, and not a bad choice for a woman since it was small and easy to conceal. He handed it back and she flicked it open while she spoke, hypnotized by the flash of silver as it leapt out of the casing.

_You stupid bitch. You just had to go and hand it in. You have absolutely no concept of self-preservation, do you? I warned you. I told you what would happen if you did it, and you still did it. You really are a stupid whore… _

The words sounded wrong coming from her lips. Words he knew weren't hers. Words she voiced with a low drone, her shiver echoing the memory.

"I thought I was needed in the infirmary and he'd come to get me." _Snap. Fold and click._

"I threatened to castrate him." _Snap. Fold and click._

"When I grabbed for my radio he apologized. Said he was just feeling overworked. Said he'd go talk to Woolsey in the morning." _Snap. Fold and click._

"What…" His hand landed on hers and extracted the closed knife before she sliced off a finger. "Happened. Exactly."

"He yelled. Shoved me a couple of times. Just… freaked me out. Which was the whole point, I guess." She shook her head. "He's a big guy. Not as big you, but big… compared to me. Okay everyone's big compared to me. He wasn't really worried about me having a knife. He thought it was funny. He did do a quick turnaround when I picked up my radio, though."

"And you let him go?"

"Damn right I let him go." She whispered with a nod. "I just wanted him gone. I don't know. Stupid, right? I locked my door. I was going to talk to Woolsey. I was fully planning on talking to Woolsey. But then… then the day just went… crazy… And I… I forgot. I mean, I didn't forget, forget. I just… okay maybe I wanted to forget. I guess I just hoped it was over with. I didn't know he'd come back. "

"Come back…" Ronon felt himself slipping again and he struggled to keep his mind focused. She needed to tell him, and he needed to listen but the wait was going to be the death of him.

He waited. But it was very. Very. Difficult.

She wiggled out of his arms and he wasn't sure he should be letting her go. But he did. Watchfully. Then changed his mind and decided to follow.

She crossed the room, hesitated when she reached the small desk on the far side. Digging into the top drawer she extracted a stack of small yellow squares. The self-sticking notes McKay was so fond of leaving instructions and warnings on.

She turned and handed them to him.

He flipped through them. There had to be several dozen. All scribbled with single words. _Bitch. Whore. Cunt. _A variety of others he didn't recognize but assumed she had. He handed them back and she returned them to the drawer.

"They were stuck all over. Everywhere. On… everything. Walls. Widows. Mirrors. Drawers. _In_ my drawers. I took them all down. And it took me a while to do it. And then I heard him laughing."

She turned to face him, her arms automatically reaching for him and he stepped forward, accepting her body against his.

"He was in here the _whole time_. Watching me rip them all down. Thought it was funny. After he left I just… I just couldn't sleep. Couldn't stay. He'd been into everything. Left notes everywhere. Touched everything. I mean, it's stupid I know, but I just didn't want to touch anything. And the worst part was… I had no idea. No idea he was even in here. No sense of self preservation. I mean, some crazy guy's hiding in the corner and I'm all la-la nothing's wrong. That… is the worst part. That… keeps me awake."

Ronon felt her body shake. He understood. _He_ would have sensed another presence the minute he entered the room. Hell, he'd even known there'd been someone in her to begin with. But _she_… she wouldn't have known. Matterson could have cause all kinds of hurt and she wouldn't have known. She would have been here… alone. Unaware. Unprotected.

It wasn't right. It wasn't how it should be. A woman like her should be revered. Talent and intelligence. Beauty and grace. On Sateda, women of her power would be protected. Threats were the direct responsibility of her champion. But here… here they followed Earth rules. Don't do anything for fear of hurting someone's feelings. He felt the anger building and nodded to himself with the realization that now… now it was too late for Earth rules. Matterson was going to learn about Satedan rules.

"He just left?"

She nodded, the top of her head rubbing against the underside of his chin.

"He didn't hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"And you haven't told anyone?"

Her fingers tightened in the back of his shirt. "I gave most of the notes to Richard. Woolsey. In the morning. The stack you saw… those were just the ones I found later. The one's I'm still finding."

"So Woolsey knows."

She nodded.

"Matterson's locked up?"

She shook her head.

"Why the hell not?" Matterson scared her. Invaded her personal space. Insulted his commanding officer. That should be more than enough to have him taken care of.

"Woolsey said he would take care of it. I think he was planning to remove him from rotation."

Ronon rolled his shoulder. "If he'd have locked him up in the first place Lorne wouldn't be lying in a bed with a bullet hole in his shoulder."

She sighed. She shook her head, her words muffled against his chest. "No. No. And that's what's got me so… worried. Ronon. I… Eli didn't shoot Evan."

"Wait." He pulled away, holding her at arms length while he scanned her face. "He broke into your room and terrorized you and you think he's _not_ capable of trying to shoot you?"

She shook her head. "I didn't say he wasn't capable. I said he didn't do it."

"How can you be so sure?"

Chewing her bottom lip she stepped further away, standing just out of his reach. She exhaled, then nodded, an internal battle either won, or lost. Quickly turning, she yanked at the edges of her shirt, pulling it up her back. A series of harsh red scrapes slashed across the pale skin of her upper back.

"Eli didn't do it, Ronon." Her voice was quiet as she lowered her shirt and turned back around. "I know… because he was in the bathroom with me when Evan was shot."


	8. Chapter 8

Evan's shoulder hurt like a bitch, but it was nothing compared to what he was going to do to the jackass who'd pulled the trigger. As soon as he figured out just who the hell that jackass was, since he'd already ruled out Dr. Keller's ramped-up employee.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he glared at the nurse who was trying to tell him he needed to rest and not to pull his stitches. As this point, pulling stitches seemed like a reasonable trade off for some good old western justice. Hell it was just a hole… he'd walked away from worse… all this pussy-footing around someone just because they'd been shot was annoying as hell, and the headache certainly wasn't helping.

He glanced at Travis and Dunn and tried to decide if they were there for his protection, or someone else's. They'd already confirmed Dr. Keller wasn't in the infirmary, but couldn't confirm if she was with anyone. So he decided if had to drag the damn nurse kicking and screaming down to the crew quarters, he was going to go find the good doctor and make sure she was okay because apparently making the request over the radio was beyond both the damn devil dog's training or ability. He glowered at the two Lieutenants – again.

His feet were about to hit the floor when his babysitters snapped to attention.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Lorne looked up. "It's about time you showed up." He hesitated only briefly before adding the "Sir".

Sheppard tilted his head in a not-so subtle dismissal to the two Lieutenants, who made themselves scarce.

"Back into bed, Major."

"I'm fine, Sir."

"I can make it an order."

Evan found himself smiling despite the ache behind his skull. He relented, and shoved himself further back onto the bed, but refused to lay down. The gloating nurse gave him an I-told-you-so sneer before she left them alone. He briefly thought about sticking his tongue out at her retreating backside, then decided to save it for a time his CO _wasn't_ standing in front of him.

"Dr. Keller?" He asked when everyone else was out of earshot.

"Safe." Ronon answered over Sheppard's shoulder.

"She's okay?"

Ronon nodded. Once. But it was enough.

"Good."

"So." John raised an eyebrow. "What did we miss?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"The Doc filled us in." John jammed his hands into his pockets, and Evan knew he'd done it to hide the fact that they were both tightly curled into fists. At least they were on the same page of anger-management-issues.

"But I want to know what you know." John prompted.

Evan looked down at the giant slab of gauze on his shoulder before looking up.

"We have more than one problem."

John nodded, glancing over at Ronon. "We figured as much."

"Matterson?" Evan asked, his eyes connecting with Ronon's. Not that he didn't fully expect Sheppard to see justice done. Quite the opposite. Having someone who was oh-so-slightly outside of regular protocol's to take care of the dead-man-in-a-lab-coat simply seemed like an added bonus.

Ronon's answering growl pretty much told him the matter would be dealt with. Evan shook his head with the sad realization that he'd been spending all together way to much time with the Satedan if growls were taking on linguistic intonations.

He judged by the look on John and Ronon's faces they'd both heard about the incident in the bathroom. Good. No time wasted explaining.

"How much do you know?" John asked, rocking forward on his heels.

"Doc told me about the bathroom while she was letting me bleed all over her. She was apologizing for leaving me alone. Kept saying it was all her fault. The knife. The notes. Don't think she realized quite what she was telling me." He shook his head. "I gotta say, she's damn quick when she wants to be. I was halfway out the door after the son-of-a-bitch when she stabbed me."

"She tranked you?" John smirked.

"Dropped me like a sack o' potatoes. Whatever she used sure has kick. So where's Matterson?"

"Off-world."

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

"Attitude, Major?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely, Sir. I take it there's a _reason_ he's off world."

"Woolsey needed a surgeon to go with SGA-12. Figured it would be just as easy to separate them for a few days. Didn't know about the incident in the bathroom at the time."

"And now?"

John nodded. "They're due to check in at 22:30. I'll have Matterson taken into custody. But that doesn't answer the big question."

"Can I have 'who's playing with firearms in the stock room' for a thousand, Alex." Evan rubbed his forehead, fighting both the headache, and the desire to get off his ass and hit someone.

"That would be the one." John nodded. "Did you see him?"

Evan shook his head. "No."

"Do you think he knows that?"

Evan tilted his head. "Don't know." It was a question he'd also batted around.

"Anyone you pissed off lately?"

Evan shook his head. "None of my guys did this."

"You're so sure about them?" Ronon asked.

"I'm sure about their accuracy. If they were gunning for me, I wouldn't be sitting here."

"Point." John exhaled.

"And… I'm not so sure it was me he was after."

John sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

Evan really hadn't wanted to say it out loud, but it needed saying. If he'd known about Matterson to begin with, he might have put less stock in the coincidental factor, and made more of an attempt to keep his eye on Jennifer. But hindsight was only good enough if you could time travel. He would, however, bring up the lack of information to Sheppard after they'd sorted this whole mess out.

"Bingo!" Rodney appeared from around the edge of the privacy curtain and handed John a large glass jar.

John's eyes dropped to the container than raised back up to Rodney.

"Bees." Rodney said, as though the word would sum up everything.

"Invisible?" John wiggled the jar.

"No, no." Rodney waved his had. "It's empty."

John nodded. "Good. Because being attacked by _invisible_ killer bees is not on my list of things to do today."

Evan watched with amusement as John and Rodney glared at each other. Rodney expecting understanding and John expecting an explanation. It was the Colonel who broke first.

"The jar, Rodney?"

"The bees." McKay repeated, then rolled his eyes. "It's how the bees got into her office? Okay, look. The vents in the infirmary are stand alone. Not connected to anything else in the city. You know, to help prevent outbreaks, the spread of disease? Smart idea actually. Earth hospitals could take a lesson-"

"McKay."

"Hmm? Oh right yes." Rodney snatched the jar back from the Colonel and unscrewed the lid, setting the glass container onto the table next to Evan's bed. He then set the lid on the jar but didn't screw it down. "Someone put the bees inside and set it in the vents. The more aggravated the bees got, the more they bounced around." He tapped the glass with his finger several times until the lid fell off. "A little vibration and voila, Houdini in a jar."

Evan shook his head. "She was in her office for hours doing paperwork before we left for the mess-hall. If they were in there the whole time, wouldn't they have come out sooner?"

"Ah yes." Rodney grinned and snapped his fingers at Evan. "Nocturnal."

"Nocturnal?"

"Did she shut the light off and lock the door?"

Evan nodded.

"Nocturnal. They're night… bees. They were asleep as long as the light was on. When she shut the light off, they woke up."

"So…"

"So… whoever took them either knew they were nocturnal and planned on them killing each other off before she came back just to scare her. Or… they didn't know and they were trying to kill her. Either way…"

"Either way we've _still_ got nothing." John voiced.

Rodney's shoulder's dropped. "Basically."

"What about the stockroom?"

"Shelves were definitely cut. There would be no way of knowing how long it would be before they collapsed. Unless of course you were me, and you knew the full dimensions of the shelves and weight ratio of the equipment on each shelf, coupled with the size of the cut in each leg. I could theoretically calculate how long the weight could hold before it collapsed, but then I'd also have to make sure the victim was in the room at the exact time and since you yourself said she'd gone in after finishing up a report, and they are obviously not me, so…" Rodney shrugged. "It's pretty much a gamble."

"The snake?"

"Nada. Last time the snake-doctor checked on his sleeping reptile was two days ago. No one remembers seeing it… or rather… _not_ seeing it. No idea who, what, when, where, why or how."

"The doors?"

"Sabotage." Rodney pointed over his shoulder. "Zelenka says the fail-safes were removed. He put them back."

Evan sighed. They were getting nowhere fast, and his headache was returning with a fervor. At this rate they'd either be attacked by a contingent from Noah's ark before nightfall, or someone was going to drop an ACME anvil on him. If the anvil killed off this headache, it had his vote.

"So we've got two pet mice, six killer bees, a man-eating python, sabotaged shelves, broken quarantine doors, exploding petri dishes, a box of missing bedpans, and nothing to show for it except a hole in my shoulder?"

Everyone turned towards him.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

.

.

.

.

_A/N just a quick note that I read somewhere devil dog is a slang term for marines, just as flyboys is slang for air force pilots. :) In case you're wondering why Evan said it. (More chapters coming tonight! I promise!)_


	9. Chapter 9

The door chime sounded and she looked at the clock, smiling to know it was exactly four hours to the minute. Rolling onto her side, she slid off the bed and padded barefoot to the door. When it opened, she stood to the side to let him in, nodding at the Marine's stationed in the hallway.

"You sleep?" He asked after the door slid shut.

"I must have." She shrugged. "I didn't even hear you leave."

"You were tired."

"Yeah, sleeping the bathtub's not very comfortable."

His eyes automatically shifted to the bed and the mass of blankets.

"Yes." She said with a soft laugh. "I stayed in the bed."

"You should stay."

She shook her head. "I have too much to do."

"Have someone else do it."

Jen shook her head, knowing he really did understand her request to get back to work, to keep from being idle, or he wouldn't have agreed to come back. Yet he had agreed. Even if he did extract his own part of the bargain.

She felt her smile fading as she realized she couldn't put it off any longer. "Nothing happened, you know."

"I still want to know."

Jen nodded and retreated to the bed, letting her knees drop her heavily onto the comforter. She idly fluffed the pillow, then picked it up and held it in front of her, wrapping her arms around it like a feather-stuff shield. She'd made him promise to wake her in four hours, and he'd agreed only if she told him every detail about what happened in the bathroom. He'd taken her word that nothing had happened other than a few scratches, but he insisted on understanding what had transpired in those five minutes. She wasn't sure why it was so important, but the way he'd looked at her… she'd have given him the moon if it was in her power to do so.

But now… now she wasn't so sure she could get all the words out. Oh she'd still give him the moon though. Especially if he kept staring at her as though there was nothing else in existence but her. It could certainly make a girl forget there was someone out to kill her.

She sighed.

Or not.

He sat beside her and she subconsciously let her head rest against the side of his shoulder.

With a deep breath, she let the scene play out behind her closed eyelids.

--

_The bathroom door was staring to close behind her when it stopped and re-opened. When she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes locked with the cold stare of Eli Matterson. _

_At the same time as her heart decided to escape through her rib-cage, he shoved her further into the small room, letting the door close behind him. The tiny, windowless room became infinitesimally small with his overpowering sneer blocking the only exit. _

_She stepped back, but with only a few feet of room between walls, she barely took three steps before she backed into the lip of the sink. _

"_Eli." Her voice croaked, and she immediately hated how weak it sounded._

"_Jennifer." He sneered, inching forward. "Or should I say, Dr. Keller. Ma'am."_

"_Eli, I-"_

"_Save it." He slipped closer. "You just had to go and tell Woolsey, didn't you."_

"_Eli, the performance reviews aren't that big a deal. I'm sure…"_

"_Oh you're sure." He interrupted. "You're sure that what? You've ruined my career? You're sure you've destroyed seventeen years of hard work? You're sure you successfully killed me off because you're jealous? Because you can't handle the fact that I should be Chief Medical Officer and not you? Taking out the direct competition?"_

_His speech brought him close enough she could feel his breath on her face. When he leaned down, she turned her face away and angled her head, unable to move her body away from it's mashed position against the edge of the sink._

_He laughed, his fingers squeezing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "How many people are you doing? Hmm? Someone in the IOA tapping a piece? Two? More? Anyone here high enough up the chain of command fit your profile? Woolsey's got a glass office. Maybe getting bent over his desk where everyone can see you is the way you like to go? How be I give you a go. Shall I bend you over a desk? Or maybe a sink? You can watch yourself in the mirror. Would you like that?" _

_He licked her cheek and she shuddered, her fingers digging into the front of his shirt to push him away but he was twice her weight, and well built. It was like pushing a brick wall, and it only made him laugh._

_When his lips slapped onto hers she struggled to pull away but he held her tightly, jamming his tongue into her mouth. With an adrenaline burst of pure survival and she bit down, the warm taste of copper filling her mouth. He drew back with a cry of pain and disgust, releasing her chin to touch his tongue. Staring over her shoulder into the mirror he locked on the trickle of blood dripping down the side of his mouth onto his chin. _

"_Bitch." He spat a mouthful of blood into the sink beside her hip. "You're going to pay for that."_

_His hands crushed her upper arms and with anger-fueled effort her feet left the ground and he slammed her back into the mirror above the sink. The glass shattered, digging sharp edges into her shoulders as he let her slide down so she was sitting on the taps. He laughed to see her pain and was about to say something else when a sharp bang sounded outside the room. _

_His eyes immediately shifted he released her. Listening through the door he nodded to himself before opening it and peering out. It must have been safe to leave because he turned around and smiled, blood staining his teeth. She watched with renewed fear as he adjusted the obvious erection lumping the front of his trousers. _

"_Don't miss me too much. We'll finish this later." He nodded before disappearing through the open doorway. _

_--_

By the time she was finished, she'd wrapped herself around Ronon's upper body again, and was twisting her fingers through the back of his shirt. He was as stiff as a board and she suddenly worried she'd gone too far. "I'm sorry." She unclenched his shirt and pushed away, but his arms wouldn't release her. "I don't mean to keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Grabbing you. I just… I don't…" _know what else to do._

"It's fine." He nodded, his eyes boring a hole in the wall at a spot behind her head. He looked… _deadly_.

"I'm sorry." She whispered again. "I shouldn't have…" _dumped that on you._ "But you asked, and I didn't intend…" _to tell you all of that. _

When he didn't answer, she struggled with the silence. He was so angry. She could feel it radiating of him in waves of heat and energy. He straightened and released her, standing with a suddenness that rocked the mattress. He took several steps forward before stopping in the middle of her room, his back straight and stiff as he faced away from her. She hadn't meant to say so much. In fact, she'd purposely rewritten the story in her head to make her sound less hapless. Tossed in a few power kicks and a left hook. She'd also intended to leave out the disgusting part about the over-excited lump in Eli's pants. But she'd taken one look into those green eyes and spilled everything. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything at all.

She felt her face flushing. Had no idea what to say. Her addled mind finally blurted out the obvious.

"You're angry."

He exhaled so sharply she saw his entire torso constrict.

She stood up, her fingers reaching for his arm before changing their mind and dropping uselessly down to her side, the words flowing out to fast to stop. "I'm so sorry. I swear, Ronon, I didn't think he was coming back. I would have told someone if I thought he was going to… if I thought he would want to… I'm sorry…"

When he spun around to face her, she couldn't find her voice.

"You're sorry?" His expression was so closed he could have been a statue – except for the emerald fire swirling behind his eyes.

She felt herself nodding.

"Why are you sorry?"

She shook her head. "You're angry with me?"

The look on his face was one of pure incredulity. In two strides he'd wrapped himself around her. "Jennifer, no." His voice spoke into the top of her head.

She shook her head. "I just thought…"

"None of this is your fault."

She sighed. "It doesn't feel that way."

"Stop blaming yourself."

"I can't. Not… yet." She shook her head against his chest, wanting to stand her forever, but knowing she had too much to do.

She straightened and he released her.

"I need to get ready. Will you…" She felt her face flushing at the question she was about to ask. "Will you wait?"

He nodded and stepped towards the door. Her hand shot out before she could stop it, and she surprised herself with the speed at which she snagged his fingers.

"No. I mean… in here? Will you wait here?"

He watched her for a moment before moving to sit in one of the chairs across from the end of her bed.

She quickly gathered up a change of clothes and turned towards the bathroom. Hesitating in the doorway she turned back, his eyes were locked on her rumpled bed.

"Ronon?" His eyes snapped to hers. She hesitated, unsure of how to say what she needed to say. He waited – his eyes never leaving hers. She took his courage and after taking a deep breath, exhaled slowly. "You called me Jennifer."

He blinked, and angled his head slightly. "Sorry."

"No." She shook her head, stepping back into the bathroom. "I… prefer it. Sometimes I think people forget I have a name, not just a designation. So… thank you."

She turned and let the door slide closed before he could see the embarrassment flushing up her cheeks.

* * *

Sitting alone in the mess hall, Jennifer pretty much counted on the fact that the two fully armed Marines standing directly behind her would kill off any appetite, and any chance at a lunch companion.

So she'd chosen a table in the corner away from the main thoroughfare, and drove her fork around her plate with unbridled distraction.

She knew they were back to talking about her in the infirmary. And she hated that. Not so much that they were talking about her, because that in itself was perfectly acceptable. No, the issue was they'd not included her. Okay fine, so she didn't have a military mind. And sure, she wasn't exactly one for strategic thinking… but it was her infirmary. Her… problem. Her life. So why was she sitting here alone while they tried to figure it all out?

After she'd showered and changed, Ronon explained how far they had, or rather, hadn't gotten on the whole question of who and why. He'd also told her Sheppard ordered, and Woolsey approved, a twenty-four seven protection duty until it was sorted out.

In the mean time, they – the men folk – were going to try to figure out how to save the poor helpless woman. So here she sat, ostracized to the mess-hall for lunch while they decided her fate.

She sighed at the over exaggerated tone of her thoughts, then decided who cared. They were her thoughts. So if they weren't going to include her, she'd just have to figure it out on her own. After all, she didn't get her job as CMO by sleeping her way to the top.

Laughing at her own joke brought an odd look from Hudson and McAllister, but she ignored them. Stabbing a chunk of lettuce, she twirled it through the air before dropping her fork and going for a drink of water instead.

If Matterson didn't shoot Evan… Then someone else had. And someone else was probably behind everything else. Or at least _some_ of the everything else.

But someone on a base of close to three hundred was still a pretty big haystack to search. Half the events came back to scaring or trying to kill her, and half the events seemed to be centered around her disaster of a stock room.

She still had no idea if the room was ever going to be back in order. Zelenka's group had to dismantle and move two shelves to access the doors and repair the fail-safes. They'd put everything back, but it was doubtful it was all in the right spot. She'd have to go through it all – again – and make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and correctly labeled, once and for all.

She shook her head. The last time she'd spent this much time in the supply shelves she'd been trying to figure out…

Her head snapped up.

_No_.

Could it be that simple?

It couldn't be.

_Yes_.

Yes it could be.

She made it all the way to the hallway before McAllister and Hudson's footfalls finally fell into a steady rhythm behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

After pacing the infirmary for an extensive thirty minutes, Ronon was beginning to wonder what was taking them so long, and asking himself why he'd let her go to the mess hall alone in the first place. He glared at Sheppard, who'd been the reason he'd stayed. John and Lorne were attempting to consolidate the incident reports from the past three days, and Ronon wanted to hear Lorne's take on the events. The more perspectives you could balance, the more pieces of the puzzle became available.

He'd almost listed a dozen reasons why he should just go down there and check, when Rodney came storming in, head buried in his tablet.

McKay stopped and glanced around. "Okay. Where is she? I drop everything for her hunch and she's not even here? Typical."

"What hunch?" John tossed his computer onto the end of Lorne's bed and stood up.

"The missing supplies."

"The bedpans?" Evan questioned.

"What bedpans?" John looked at Evan.

"The bedpans that are missing from the supply room." Evan answered.

"Dr. Keller had a hunch about bedpans?" John looked from Evan to Rodney.

"Yes," Rodney nodded knowingly. "There's rampant bedpan addiction no one's told you about."

"There is?"

"No." Rodney rolled his eyes. "The morphine, Major. The morphine."

"Morphine?" Evan frowned.

"What morphine?" John asked.

"The morphine that's missing."

"There's bedpans _and_ morphine missing?"

"Oh my _god_, I'm stuck in a Monty Python skit." Rodney flung his hand to the ceiling. "Where's Dr. Keller."

"Mess hall. But McKay-"

"Oh so she gets to eat while I do all the work. I see how it is." His eyes narrowed as he reached for his radio. "Dr. Keller this is Dr. McKay… waiting for you in your infirmary."

He waited, then tried again. "Dr. Keller? I have that information you wanted."

Ronon's stomach twisted.

John tried. "Dr. Keller this is Colonel Sheppard, please reply."

Still nothing.

Ronon was halfway out the door when he heard John's voice behind him. "McAllister? Hudson? This is Sheppard. Come in."

No answer.

"Shit." John cursed.

They ran.

* * *

Two life signs.

Two life signs and no indication of who they were.

She'd told McKay she'd meet him in the infirmary – she just needed to pick up some notes from her quarters.

That was forty-five minutes ago.

Standing outside her quarters - he stared at the closed door and cursed himself again for letting her out of his sight. He should have known better – damn it. Of anyone on this base - this city - _he_ should have known better. He'd let his guard down simply because they were… here.

This was his fault.

If he got her back…

No.

_When_ he got her back…

He'd not make the same mistake twice.

John shifted beside him and he nodded. He was ready.

Two life signs that hadn't moved in over seven minutes.

And he had a really, really bad feeling he knew exactly who _they_ were.

When John triggered the door, both men jumped back against the wall, only marginally surprised when no one took a shot at them. With precision John went low, Ronon went high and they entered the room, weapons raised.

A few feet inside the door, one face down, one on his back, were Hudson and McAllister. As John called for a medical team, Ronon quickly surveyed the rest of the room, but as expected, there was no sign of Jennifer. Both Marine's were alive – but unconscious. Stunned? Drugged?

That they were alive said something.

He hoped.

Then his stomach twisted when John answered his radio with "What do you mean he's missing?"

Sheppard's face was a mix of anger and incredulity as he turned towards Ronon. "Lorne disappeared. What the _hell_ is going on?"

Ronon's tension solidified and he rode it with a surprising calm. As he ran with Sheppard to the infirmary, he knew this situation had just gone from bad to worse. Only now he wasn't as bothered by it so much as steadied. _Worse_ meant Sheppard was about to throw the rules out the window. And when Sheppard leaned away from the rules, it almost always meant Ronon got to hurt someone.

That made him smile.

Slowly.

Because if _anything_ happened to her… someone was most definitely going to feel pain.


	11. Chapter 11

The headache woke her.

The headache, and the half cold, half warm temperature assaulting her body.

Someone moaned.

Her.

"Come on, Doc." A voice called softly in her ear. "I need you to stay with me this time."

The urge to go back to sleep was strong. So strong. To just close her eyes and go back to the unknown. Her body position was awkward. The bedding lumpy. But she didn't mind. The darkness called her and she wanted to return. But Evan's steady stream of words kept interrupting. She tried to force her eyes open, to tell him to go away, to let her sleep. To swat at him and push him away, but her arms wouldn't move. Nor would her body. It was too early. She needed more.

"Jennifer… Jennifer! You need to stay awake. Come on. Just open your eyes."

Letting his words wash over her, she felt a twist of annoyance when her upper body rocked slightly. It took several tries but her eyes eventually remained open, her mind a fog of confusion. Waking up in a bed you didn't remember going to sleep in. Waking up in a room you don't recognize. Waking up with someone else when you normally slept alone.

Blue eyes stared into hers.

He smiled.

"Hi Doc. Welcome back."

She blinked. Her mouth was dry. Her head ached. Her legs were freezing. Her upper body was warm.

"Come on. Talk to me. Stay awake." Evan's smile faltered and he leaned lower, twisting his upper body beneath hers. "You're okay. But if we're going to get out of this mess, I'm going to need your help. You're going to have to sit up. Can you do that?"

_Sit up? _Jen realized his face was tilted. She was looking down into his eyes. He was lying on his side and she was… reclined against him. On him. Leaning against him like a couch cushion. Why was she leaning on Evan?

Her body tried to obey his request to sit up but it was impossible to convince her limbs to move. Her torso constricted and she bent at the middle, pulling herself upright. She felt him shifting out from behind her.

Her legs were folded beneath her and she shifted them forward. When she was unable to use her arms for leverage, she lost her balance and fell into Evan who was now sitting up beside her on her left.

"Careful, Doc." Evan warned. "Your hands and feet are tied. Don't move too far."

Jen straightened, her eyes locked on the think yellow cord wrapped around her ankles. A modem of concentration and she was back upright, this time looking at the equally tight loop of cords around Evan's feet. Bare feet.

Bare because he was still wearing his patient clothes from his stay in the infirmary.

Her head twisted and she looked to the right, her mind struggling for more information to clear out the last of the cobwebs.

Brown metal walls. Wet. _Wet walls?_ No windows. Only a small light over a closed door. _No, not a door, a hatchway._ The air was cold. She could see her breath. Her legs were cold. And her ass. Damp. The floor was damp, too.

But it was the realization of what was on the other side of Evan that caught her attention and kicked in the adrenaline.

"Is that water?" She croaked out, staring at the obviously wet liquid rippling through the rest of the chamber.

They were sitting on the edge of a platform, narrow enough to keep them out of the water, but barely. The circular room was small – maybe twenty feet across, and completely closed in – the only sign of an exit was the light, and the hatchway, to Jen's right. The center of the room was completely filled with water, and judging by the twisting feeling in the pit of her stomach – the water was deep. Very, very deep.

"Where _are_ we?" Jen glanced at Evan, who was watching her with an equal mix of concern and worry.

"It's an underwater access hole to the underside of the star drive." Evan answered, glancing into the water before turning back towards her.

"Star drive?" Jen squeaked, her mind immediately calculating just how far underwater the star drive was. She looked up at the ceiling. "You mean we're…"

"A couple hundred feet under the surface? Yeah."

"Oh…" She exhaled with growing horror. "This isn't good, is it?"

Evan shook his head. "Probably not."

"What happened? How did you get here? How did I get here?"

"I came courtesy of a P90 to the spine. You came over the shoulder of Jonathon Liddell."

"Jonathon Liddell? The… the engineer? But why would he… Why would I… I don't understand." She shook her head then immediately regretted the snappy movement when the room spun. She exhaled slowly and rode it out, hoping that whatever was in her system would leave quickly. And without after affects.

Evan watched her carefully before answering. "I was hoping you might have an idea. Liddell and Merrill weren't willing to share much info with me."

"Merrill? Corporal Merrill" Jen frowned, struggling to remember what happened last. "I was on my way to my quarters… no… wait… I was _in_ my quarters. I needed to get some notes for Rodney… I remember a sharp pain in my shoulder." She rolled her neck. "After that…?" She looked around the room.

"Do you have any idea why someone would want to kidnap you?" Evan asked, shifting his weight. "Or… me?"

Jen nodded and turned towards him. "Actually I think I do… Someone's been stealing medical supplies. More specifically, drugs. I had a funny feeling something like this was happening but because of the way we tracked the supplies with the off-world teams, it was really hard to trace. So that's why I changed the restocking procedure six weeks ago."

"I remember." Evan tilted his head. "Doubled my paperwork."

Jen made a face. "Sorry."

Evan shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "So… someone's been taking supplies out of the kits? And because we now have everyone report any medical supply used, they couldn't sneak them any more… and decided to what? Just take them right from the stock room?"

Jen nodded. "I was hoping I was wrong. That people were just… losing things." She looked around the room. "Merrill and Liddell? Jonathon Liddell. Oh… lord. I didn't see that one coming."

"Any chance someone would have seen you with them?" Evan asked hopefully.

Jen shrugged. "Before I… disappeared… I was talking to Rodney. I asked him to go through all the names of anyone going off world when supplies went missing, against the supplies that are missing, and factor in who was here the past 3 days. I have a feeling these past three days were all just an attempt to cover their tracks."

"A glorified robbery?"

Jen nodded.

"Damn."

She glanced at Evan.

"I was hoping for something a little cooler to put on my mission report." He grinned.

Jen shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible." Then she shivered again. "So, now what?"

Evan shifted his shoulders and wiggled his bare toes. "You wouldn't happen to have a knife on you, would you? Homing beacon? GPS transmitter? Anything?"

Jen stiffened and blinked.

"What?" Evan looked immediately concerned.

"Actually…"

With an echoing clang, the hatch snapped and swung open before she could finish.

A P90 let itself into the opening followed by the clean shaven young face, and beefy body, of Corporal Merrill. He smiled and glanced at the man standing behind him.

"Dr. Keller, glad to see you're awake."

The nasally voice of Jonathon Liddell matched his weasel like appearance. Tall and wiry, his nose was long and thin, the perfect support for his wire framed glasses. Clean shaven and otherwise very neat, Jennifer would never, ever, have guessed the detail oriented, soft spoken engineer to be involved in anything illegal, much less theft and kidnapping. Her disdain must have shown on her face for he made a soft, tisk-tisk sound.

"Now, now, Doctor." He smiled. "Surely you can't fault a main for trying to make a living?"

_Make a living? _Jen shook her head. "What are you talking about? Why have you brought us here?"

"I'm talking, my dear Jennifer, about money." He leaned against the door frame and nodded at Merrill.

"The corporal and our civilian friend have been stealing drugs for a while now, haven't you?" Evan looked pointedly at Corporal Merrill, who at least had the grace to shift uncomfortably under the direct bore of his commanding officer. She did notice Merrill didn't stop pointing the P90 at them, however.

"Very good, Major." Merrill nodded in agreement. "We were doing just fine until Dr. Keller here decided to document everything. Each off world trip wouldn't miss a little bottle of this, vial of that. But with the added paperwork, we couldn't hide our indiscretions any longer."

Jonathon urged Merrill into the room, and stepped onto the platform behind him. "It made it… a little more difficult to complete our transactions." He continued. "But, we worked around it. As luck would have it, my contract is up," he looked at his watch. "In seven hours. So… I decided to make one last… shopping trip… before I retired."

Jen was beginning to feel dizzy from the speed at which she was shifting her eyes between Jonathon Liddell, and the barrel of the Corporal's P90. She was also rather shocked to think she'd been right about the robbery.

"So the shelves, the messed up supplies, the animials... it was all just…"

"Just a cover up." Merrill nodded. "Your supply boxes are filled with water and vitamins. Your staff shouldn't notice for a few more weeks, at least. Although I actually wish I'd thought of the animals. The distraction certainly made it easier to get into the room and complete our…mission. I'll be sure to properly thank whoever _did_ do it."

"Your lax supply tracking has set me up with a nice, steady business on Earth." Jonathon smiled at her, as though she'd just done him a huge favour. "Our latest collection should be enough to set me up with a nice beach house, someplace warm, tropical, wraith and replicator free. I'm just sad you won't be around for my good-bye party tonight. We're having drinks on the balcony. Should be quite fun."

Jen swallowed hard.

She really, really didn't like the way Merrill was holding his weapon.

"Let us go, right now, and I'll see what I can do about making things a little easier on you at the hearing." Evan suggested, his words biting out.

The Corporal laughed. "Actually Major, there won't be any hearing. It's hard to accuse someone without any witnesses. Lack of solid proof and all that." He looked at Jonathon for confirmation.

Evan shook his head. "By now people know we're missing. It's only a matter of time."

Jonathon smiled. "That's where you're wrong. You're far enough under the city the sensor's aren't programmed to read for life signs. I mean, yes… there's a good chance someone's discovered you've taken an exceptionally long trip to the bathroom, and Dr. Keller's escorts might be awake by now, but, anyone who is looking will be searching the city by sensor readings. You aren't on the sensors, so you won't be found – or rather, your _bodies_ – won't be found, for quite some time I'm sure."

"You can't be serious." Jen exhaled, the cold dread in her chest equaling the cold feel of the floor beneath her.

"Oh, I'm quite serious."

When the Corporal adjusted the barrel of his P90, Jen felt all the breath leaving her body. It wasn't right. This wasn't how it should be. A robbery? It was too… Earth like! She hadn't finished everything. She hadn't even started! There was too much to say. Too much to do. She-

The gun fired and she screamed, her body jumping with shock.

But there was no pain.

She opened her eyes and glanced quickly at Evan, her heart stopping with what she knew she was about to see.

No blood.

Evan stared at Corporal Merrill.

Jen's head spun back towards the Marine.

Merrill's eyes were wide with shock – his body stiff – turning, slowly to face the doorway. The hatchway… and Jonathon Liddell, who was holding a service revolver directly out in front of him.

Jen watched in equal parts of horror and dread as Merrill staggered backwards, knees buckling, feet slipping on the edge of the platform, sending his body plunging into the deep water.

Under a burble of bubbles, he sank into the blackened depths, and disappeared.


	12. Chapter 12

"Six weeks ago the infirmary changed the way they process the field kits." Rodney said over his shoulder, madly typing on his tablet. "The returning supplies were in such a state of disarray, there was no way of knowing who was using what, and what needed to be replaced."

"Each team is now required to restock everything after each mission." John explained quickly to Richard Woolsey, who'd come to join the trio in McKay's lab. After learning Major Lorne had also gone missing, John had organized several search teams, who were following random life sign clusters through various parts of the city. Any location with two or more people that was out of the way, or in a distant or unusual location.

So far, they'd found no sign of Evan or Jennifer.

John was getting very, very, angry. It was taking every ounce of self control he possessed not to grab Ronon and just go. Be moving. Looking, searching, doing something. Anything! Anything other than standing around chit-chatting.

Having an enemy to shoot – a target to track – was one thing. Finding out that target was inside your own ranks, someone in your home, a traitor, now that was something altogether different. That was something he could and would, never, ever, tolerate.

Rodney continued his explanation without looking up from his keyboard. "And now, everything is documented, catalogued, numbered, and restocked with each arrival of the Daedalus."

"So what's this have to do with our missing people?" Woolsey asked, removing his glasses to give them a quick wipe before returning them to his face.

"Everything." Rodney nodded. "Someone's been stealing medical supplies."

"Bedpans?" Woolsey raised an eyebrow.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Enough with the bedpans, already! Ignore the bedpans! No one is stealing bedpans!"

"Okay, Rodney. We get it." John placed his hand on Rodney's shoulder and gave him a knowing squeeze. He removed his hand and stepped back, watching Rodney's shoulders drop a fraction. Few people would recognize the signs, but John could. He knew the scientist was just as worried about his friends as the rest.

"The infirmary may not look like much, but I assure you it's fully stocked." Rodney continued, taking a deep breath. "Tranquilizers, amphetamines, benzodiazepines, barbiturates, steroids. You name it, they have it. Up until six weeks ago, there was a question being raised of what was or wasn't being used legitimately."

"We're wasting time!" Ronon momentarily stopped his pacing, but not the angry twirls of the handle grip of his gun.

John gave him a warning glance, but couldn't really fault him for felling what was probably the same level of helplessness. "Faster, McKay." He urged.

"Faster McKay, Faster. Run Forrest, Run." Rodney muttered. Then with an exaggerated tap on the enter key, leaned back and crossed his arms.

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen?" John and Woolsey echoed.

"Before she… disappeared… Jen asked me to compile a list of anyone who was on, or with, an off-world team who she'd previously flagged as questionable, then compare them to whoever was here for the past three days, and cross reference them with the volume of missing supplies and delivery dates from the Daedalus. The result…" he pointed to the screen. "Seventeen possible suspects."

John, Woolsey and Ronon all leaned over his shoulder to view the list.

John didn't bother consulting Woolsey. He'd take a reprimand over further delays without a second thought. The more time they wasted, the more time there was for something to be going horribly wrong. With his hand on his ear he called his extra teams, assigning each one a name. He ordered them to split up and report in once they'd found all seventeen people.

Names one and two he personally chose for himself and Ronon.

Better moving than idle.

Especially with Ronon twirling that damn gun like he was about to participate in a wild-west shoot out.

* * *

Staring at the ripples in the water, silently willing Corporal Merrill to reappear… alive… Jen shuddered. Her mind knew he was gone, and she had to force herself to look away.

Jonathon stood in the doorway, the barrel of the gun now trained on Evan.

"Jonathon, please." She whispered, shaking her head slowly. "You don't have to do this."

He gave her an exaggerated frown. "Jennifer. Jennifer. Jennifer. Don't worry my dear. I'm not going to shoot you. One gunshot I might get away with… three… well that _could_ be pushing my luck."

Jen didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until he spoke and she exhaled.

"I have something much more _exciting_ in mind for you both." Continuing to keep the gun pointed directly at Evan, Jonathon stepped out through the hatchway, and picked something up. He straightened, and held up a grey square which appeared to be taped to a small black box.

"What is that?" Jen shook her head, a feeling of _please-god-don't-let-that-be-what-I-think-it-is_ washing over her.

"C4." Evan answered. "Our friendly neighborhood drug addict is holding a bomb."

"Now, now, Major." Jonathon grinned. "I prefer _pharmaceutical supplier_. Has a much nicer ring to it. Merrill however, was an addict. Poor boy. Guess he never realized drugs could kill."

Continuing to keep his gun trained on Evan, he wedged the bomb against something just behind the door frame.

"The way I see it, you have three choices." He straightened and smiled – a cold, calculating grimace. "You can either A, slowly die of hypothermia since it is absolutely freezing in here. B. Should you not immediately succumb to the cold, the lack of food and water should get you. Or C. You get desperate and open the door, at which point my little friend here will go off and blow you both to pieces."

Jen gasped as he laughed. "You wouldn't… You can't…"

"Oh I have. And I will. If anything comes up, it will be missing Merrill's name that shows up next to any missing supplies. No one can tie me to anything. Most importantly, you, Major. Although I do have to apologize. I realize now you didn't recognize me in the supply room. Unfortunately for you, it's too late." He looked at his watch. "Well, better not be tardy for my well wishers. It's been nice working with you both. Feel free to look me up next time you're back on Earth."

He gave them a jaunty wave and swung the door closed with a deafening clang. A few scratches against the other side of the metal door told Jen he was making good on his threat to attach the bomb to the outside of the hatchway.

The sounds died out leaving them sitting in silence.

Jen turned towards Evan, who was eyeing the door with a look that said if given the chance, Major Lorne would see to it Jonathon Liddell didn't make it to his party in one piece.

Jen felt the quiet of the room closing in around her. She shivered again, this time violently, as the chill settled into her bones. Jonathon was right. If they didn't get out of here soon, they'd both be hypothermic and completely unable to help themselves.

This was not good.

Not good at all.

"Evan?"

He turned towards her, his eyes shifting back into the present.

"Please tell me you have a plan?"

Evan twisted around, his eyes scanning the walls of the room, a movement he'd made a hundred times since he'd been shoved through the doorway and trussed up like a turkey. He'd been two seconds from showing Merrill just why the idiot was still a Corporal when Liddell showed up with Jennifer's unconscious form slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The brief thought that she could be dead staggered him, and he'd missed his opening.

A costly mistake.

Now they were locked so far beneath the city they were beyond sensors, and their only options were apparently death, death, or death.

Not very high on his scale of situations he liked to be in.

He saw the fear she was trying to hide and wondered just what he could say to make it go away, knowing anything would probably come out sounding ridiculous. She inhaled sharply and stiffened, her body squirming as she leaned against the wall, bending and wiggling her legs in an attempt to spin herself around.

"Doc?" For a brief second, he worried she was starting to panic, but her eyes were narrow, as though she were deep in thought.

"Duck." She said suddenly.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Duck." She said again, this time more forcefully. "Bend over."

He did as she requested, bending at the waist, the pull on his shoulders and the double rounds of stitches making him wince. He kept his face turned towards her, noting with surprise when she swung her legs over his head.

Now she was sitting beside him, but facing the opposite direction.

"There's a switchblade in my right boot."

He blinked. Had she just said what he thought she'd said?

"There's a switchblade in your boot." He repeated, brow furrowed.

She nodded furiously. "My right boot."

"A switchblade. As in… _knife_?"

She nodded again.

"In your boot?"

More nodding. "Is that… good?"

As he inched himself back towards her feet, Evan couldn't help but smile.

"Oh yeah, Doc. That's very, very good."


	13. Chapter 13

"You can't be serious." Jen's voice was a bare whisper as she stared at Evan.

After cutting them free, they'd paced the platform a least a dozen times, the last few more for warmth than anything else. The cold was starting to bite and Jen was feeling the shivers more and more frequently now. If they didn't get out of here soon, then Jonathon's option A looked like a distinct possibility – hypothermia.

She tucked her arms around her torso and shifted quickly from foot to foot.

The look on Evan's face told her he was more than serious. He was actually thinking it was going to work.

"It's our only shot, Doc."

"But… what if… I mean… it's a bomb, for goodness sake."

"Exactly." He nodded, turning away from the hatch to face her directly. "The size of the C4 is enough to blow the door and half the wall away. Something that big is going to register an alarm somewhere. We'll have crews down here in minutes. All we have to do is hold on."

"Blow away half the wall?" She squeaked, her voice as tense as her body felt.

He nodded. "That's why we…" he pointed between them. "Need to be there." He pointed down into the water across the room.

Jen shivered at the thought of having to hold her breath under the frigid cold water while Evan attempted to open the door without blowing himself up.

"It's suicide, Evan. I'm not going to let you do it."

"Don't worry, Doc." He grinned mischievously. "I have no intention of dying today. I will, however… need your pants."

* * *

Five minutes later and Jen stood on the far side of the platform, shivering in her tank top and underwear, debating on making Evan swear that if they ever got out of this alive, he was going to be hypnotized to forget he ever saw her in the stupid underwear she'd decided to put on when she dressed. She had no idea why she'd gone for the blue lace bikini-briefs instead of her usual comfort-over-looks white granny underwear. Okay… maybe she did know why she'd chosen the only pair of half-decent undergarments… but she wasn't about to put a name to it. Or him. It. Him. Oh god she was about to die and was losing her mind. At least she'd make a good corpse. Complete with lacy underwear and a matching bra.

"Doc?"

Jen blinked.

"You ready?"

"No." She squeaked, shaking her head furiously.

Evan angled his head.

"Okay." Jen took a deep breath, and nodded. "Okay."

Holding onto one end of the makeshift rope they'd made out of strips of material from his shirt, her pants and her boot laces, Evan backed up to the opposite end of the platform. Tied around his right wrist was her jacket, which he kept incase they needed it later. It was also securing the switchblade to his forearm since neither one of them now had pockets on their person.

"Get in the water, Doc."

"What about you?"

"Doc, get in the water. Swim to the far side and get ready to duck. When I tell you to, I want you to take as deep a breath as you can, and push yourself down. The more water above your head, the better chance you have of avoiding any flying debris. You understand?"

She nodded.

"Ready?"

She shook her head, staring into the blue eyes that were willing her to trust him. With a deep breath she turned and shimmied into the icy water, dropping herself slowly off the edge of the platform. The freezing cold temperature made her gasp and she cursed. It was cold. So very, very cold.

She watched Evan lower himself into the water on the other side, taking care not to pull the twisted rope too tightly.

When he nodded, she dropped the rest of the way into the water and squealed with the shock as the icy liquid covered the rest of her body. She swam to the far side, treading water against the wall.

Evan let the rope lead slowly away from the platform as he moved into the water towards the opposite side of the tiny room. He stretched as far away as it would let him. One end tied to the release handle on the hatch, the other clutched tightly in his fingers.

"Okay Doc. Deep breath, then as far down as you can go, right?"

Jennifer nodded, hoping to hell this was going to work, because if it didn't, they were either going to be blown to pieces… or drown. And neither option sounded very good.

"Now." Evan ordered, and Jennifer sent one last fleeting prayer to whoever was listening that she wasn't ready to die just yet. Taking two quick breaths she sucked in as much oxygen as she could and shoved herself under the water, her mind screaming as the blackness closed over the top of her head.

The concussion slammed her into the side of the metal wall and she screamed, losing precious air from her lungs before she realized what she'd done and clamped her mouth shut.

The water churned and bubbled around her with a clanging of metal on metal. Something sliced down her leg and she ignored the sharp stinging as she tried desperately to hold her breath. With a final stabbing pain through her lungs she knew she could no longer hold on and she fought her way to the surface.

With a fighting gasp as her head cleared the water she sucked in air then immediately coughed with the acrid taste of smoke.

"Evan!" She screamed, her eyes frantically searching the water.

A gaping hole was all that remained of the wall, and the hatchway. A dim light was coming from the hallway behind the opening, giving her some light to see by, but not much. The platform was completely gone, as was the first three feet of wall above the water level.

She looked around.

Still no sign of Evan.

"Evan!" Jen swam to the far side, eyes staring into the water were he'd gone under.

A churning of bubbles behind her and she spun as his head broke the surface.

"Oh my god are you all right?" She exhaled, incredibly glad to see him.

"Hey! It worked." He smiled up at the giant hole in the wall. "Cool!"

Jen treaded water beside him, debating hugging him for being okay, or hitting him for scaring her like that.

"Evan?" She stared at the big hole in the wall, glancing at the brackets which, until a few moments before, held the platform. "How are we going to get out?"

Evan moved up beside her and handed her the switchblade. "We're not."

"What?" She whispered, staring into his face over the surface of the water.

"The explosion will have triggered sensors in the control room, and the labs. Techs will be swarming down here in a matter of minutes. We just need to hang on long enough for them to get here and pull us out."

"You mean we have to stay in the water?" She chattered, her teeth already answering the question of how badly she wanted to be warm.

"Just for a few minutes. Pretend it's a polar bear dip." Evan clamped the hilt of the switchblade between his teeth while he unwrapped her jacket from his arm. She stared as he made two long slits in each sleeve.

"Give me your hand." Jen tried her best to hold out her arm while she kicked to keep herself afloat. Clamping the knife back between his teeth, he looped one sleeve around her wrist and secured it, pulling it tightly. Moving her closer to the wall, he flung her jacket up over one of the bracket of the missing platform, directly under the spot where the hatchway used to be.

"Tie mine." He nodded, holding his arm up towards the other sleeve which hung down beside him.

Jen's cold fingers struggled with the task but she was finally able to make a secure knot around his wrist. She sank back into the water but the added security of having her arm secured to a beam kept her head out of the water.

"That's ah… pretty smart."

Evan laughed. "That's why they pay me the big bucks."

"They do?"

He shook his head. "No." Then he grinned. "But I don't do it for the money."

Jen found herself smiling. "They why do you do it?"

He shrugged. "Where else can you tie yourself to a half dressed beautiful woman and call it a work related?"

Jen couldn't help it.

She laughed.

* * *

Several minutes later, Jen wasn't feeling much like laughing any more. In fact, she wasn't feeling much of anything. Her legs were so numb she wasn't sure if she was still kicking so she stopped. Her weight was being held strictly by her arm which probably would have been hurting if it wasn't so cold.

Evan didn't look much better, judging by the way he was holding his head.

"They're not coming." She chattered, the violent shudders causing the water around them to ripple.

Evan nodded, his eyes trained on the hole above his head. "They're coming."

"Evan." Jen said, waiting for him to turn towards her. "If we don't get out of this water, we're going to be dead before they get here."

"They'll be here soon."

"Evan." She said, her voice firmer than she intended, but too cold to care. "We need to get out of the water. We can't wait any more."

He looked at her, not bothering to hide the shivers coursing through his body. "They'll be here soon, Doc. You have to trust me."

"I do trust you." She answered, knowing she'd never have an issue trusting this man. Ever. He'd already done too much to try to help her. But trust wasn't going to be a factor if they both died from the elements.

They needed out of the water.

They needed to get dry.

And warm.

Very, very soon.

Because hypothermia didn't care who you trusted.

"I can't feel my legs." She whispered, not letting go of his eyes. Willing him to trust her in return. "We have to get out of the water."

He blinked.

Inhaled.

Then nodded.

"Okay."

He turned towards the opening, staring into the gaping hole. With his free hand he stretched up, wincing when the stitches in his injured shoulder pulled apart.

"Evan, your shoulder." Jen warned, watching the darker line of liquid seeping out through the torn skin.

"It's okay, Doc." He shook his head, his arm splashing back down into the water. "You can sew me up again."

He exhaled and swam closer to the wall, reaching out to grab another broken bracket a few feet away.

Jen could hear his teeth chattering as he lunged for the bracket they were currently tied across, stretching himself between the two pieces.

Jen sank under the water when the material of the jacket slackened. Using her free hand she hauled herself to the surface using the jacket like a rope.

Coughing against the mouth full of water she sputtered and spit.

"Sorry." Evan muttered.

She nodded. "S'okay. What are you doing?"

"Climb up." He said over his shoulder.

Jen coughed again. "What?"

"Climb up." He nodded. "Me. Climb up me and through the hole. You should be able to stand on my shoulders. Like a ladder."

"Evan, no." She shook her head. "I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"No." She shook her head. "I can't. There's no way I'll be able to pull you up."

"Not pull me up." He let his injured arm drop, yanking her back up out of the water as his weight yanked the jacket over his side of the bracket. "Go for help."

Jen chattered her response with a violent shake of her head.

"I'll hold, you climb."

He smiled. "Not gonna happen, Doc."

"You asked me if I trusted you. And I do." She said softly, pleading him to listen. "I'm asking you to trust me. I can't pull you out. But you can pull me out. I'm not getting out of this water first, Major. Believe me when I say that."

He watched her, his body shivering in time with hers.

Jen was afraid this was going to be it. She closed her eyes and exhaled, not willing to give this up. She wasn't dead yet. And she wasn't going to run away. There was no way she'd let him freeze to death while she ran around trying to figure out where the hell she was, or how to get help. They were in this together and they'd either get out of it together, or die together. But it was his choice. Because she was too tired to come up with anything else.

"All right." He said, and she opened her eyes.

"But when we get out of here," he said, his face serious. "You and I are going to have a little chat about taking orders."

She nodded. "Deal."

It took Evan too long to untie the jacket sleeve from around her wrist, and when it finally gave, she sank and he had to grab her to keep her from going all the way under.

With a shaky breath she pushed everything she had into kicking out of the water so she could grab the first bracket. Her fingers were so cold she slipped and had to do it twice more before she had a firm enough hold. Evan grabbed the second one and pulled her hand over to his, replacing his fingers with hers.

Once she was stretched out, the water level just below her armpits, she nodded. "Okay."

She felt his hand on her arm, the cold skin making her glance over her shoulder. She stared into his eyes, the unwritten message passing between them. If this didn't work…

It was over.

For both of them.

She nodded. "Go Evan. Before I lose my grip."

He exhaled. "I'll pull my weight off as soon as I can get my hands up there. Just don't let go of those brackets."

"I won't."

With a deep breath, Evan lowered himself into the water directly behind her, his hands on her hips.

Using her body as leverage, he pushed lower, then yanked himself out of the water, his knee landing on her shoulder.

She winced under the weight and gasped, her arms straining. Fingers slipping. She cried out when his other knee hit her right shoulder. "Hurry!"

Fighting with every piece of willpower and strength she could find, she felt her fingers letting go, her shoulders bending under his weight, the cold water pulling her further into it's grasp.

With a cry of agony she felt an instantaneous release of pressure as his knees were no longer pressing into her shoulders. His weight was completely gone. He'd done it! She fought the tears.

But before she could raise her head, her fingers lost their grip and she plunged into the icy darkness, her body too cold and exhausted to keep up the fight.

.

.

.

.

_A/N Whew! Okay that's all for tonight! :P It's 1am and I need sleep! The 4 year old gets up early! But don't worry! You're gonna love the last couple of chapters!_


	14. Chapter 14

Something hot seared her wrist and she cried out, water filling her mouth, before her head broke the surface and with a sudden shock of cold air versus cold water, she was lifted out of the darkness and into the warmth of Ronon's arms

As the liquid ice sealed over the top of her skull, her mind screamed in protest.

Fighting. Fighting to move with everything she ever did, didn't do, and wanted to do, her hands clawed the smooth wall. She was not going to let them win. Liddell. Matterson. They were not going to win. Not today. Not ever.

Something clamped tightly around her wrist and she cried out, water filling her mouth before her head broke the surface. With a sudden shock of cold air versus cold liquid, she rose higher, exhaling water and inhaling air.

Jen looked up, tears streaming down her face as she coughed and shuddered.

Evan was lying on his stomach, his body halfway through the jagged hole. He held her arm firmly between both his, but with the slick wetness and the cold shivers they both felt, she could feel herself slipping. Blood and water swirled and ran down his left arm, fresh from the reopened wound in his shoulder.

"Other hand."

She obeyed, flinging her left hand up and clamping her fingers overtop of his. He shifted and grabbed both her wrists – one in each of his hands, but the water was already making it's evil deal and she slid lower, a small scream escaping her lips.

He cursed. "Jacket. Grab the jacket." He ordered, referring to the twist of material that was still tied to his wrist. "Twist… twist your arm around it."

Without hesitation she nodded, and he released her left arm. She let out a squeal when she sank down - only her head and her right shoulder were clear of the water. Reaching up with her free arm hand tugged the end of the jacket and rotated her wrist, wrapping the material around and around until there was no more room.

Evan nodded and held her arms.

"Ready?"

"Yes." She shuddered, her voice cracking.

With unbearable slowness he inched backwards, half rocking, half crawling, inching her out of the water. When she was up as far as her arm pits, her shoulders strained and she cried out in frustration. Her feet tried to find purchase but there was only slick wall. She couldn't do anything to help.

Evan's face was locked with concentration as he managed to wiggle back few more inches. When he stopped she looked up and could see he'd made it as far back as his armpits. Her chest was now above the water but she knew they were quickly running out of energy. _He_ was quickly running out of energy.

Evan's voice cracked with his yell and he pulled, stitches popping, blood flowing more freely down his arm. She joined with an agonizing cry of her own and kicked her feet, fighting to give him something to work with. Fighting to help herself.

She was out of the water to her waist when her arm slipped in his grip.

She was too tired – to lost – too frustrated to scream.

All she could manage was a gasp of shock as something hot seared her wrist.

With one swift yank her body left the water.

-.-

As he sat on the floor amidst the bent metal, Ronon found he couldn't even speak. God her skin was cold. Her entire body shook with such violence he had a difficult time keeping her on his lap.

She was alive.

She was half dressed, completely drenched, and bleeding from a cut on her thigh.

But she was alive.

Hazel eyes met his for a brief moment before closing against the shudder that vibrated through her body. She clung to him, fingers digging sharply into his arm. When she opened her eyes again he could see the tears flowing from the corners, mixing with the water dripping off her hair. She smiled, it was fleeting, but it was still beautiful. Her hand reached up to rest lightly against his cheek.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hey." She answered through chattering teeth.

She dropped her arm weakly and sagged against him, head turned to find Evan. Her left arm stretched out, still wrapped in jacket which was attached to his wrist.

Ronon looked up at Sheppard, who was helping a coughing, bleeding Lorne roll over. John stared at the twist of material tied to both their wrists. Ronon unwrapped the end around her arm, while John untied Evan.

"It's about t-time…" Lorne gasped, fighting a tremor. "You two showed up."

John shrugged and helped him sit up. "Sorry, buddy. You know how it is… paperwork, reports. Got busy."

Evan laughed.

A loud clatter and they all stared at the switchblade that fell out onto the metal floor from beneath Evan's end of the jacket sleeve.

"I'm guessing you two have quite a story to tell?" John picked it up, and turned it over in his hand. Pressing the button the blade jumped out and he raised an eyebrow. Looking at Evan he wiggled the knife. "Switchblade, Major?"

Ronon held his hand out. "It's not his."

John closed the blade and dropped it into Ronon's hand. "Where'd _you_ get a switchblade?"

"It's not mine." Ronon started to grin when Jen held out her hand.

"It's mine." She gripped the hilt tightly between her fingers.

"Yours." John looked between the three of them.

She nodded.

"Didn't see that coming." He nodded.

Jen flipped the hilt over in her hand, then held it out to Ronon.

He blinked.

"I don't have any pockets." She said simply.

He lifted it out of her palm and tucked it into his side pocket.

"You know we have warmer spots for a swim." John chastised, slipping around to Evan's good side and pulling Evan's arm up around his shoulders.

"What, you don't like?" Evan grinned, glancing at Jen while John helped him stand. "It's quiet. Out of the way. Perfect spot for Option's A, B, and C."

She grinned back. "Or D."

"Or D." He agreed.

Jen moved to stand but Ronon refused to let her go. Instead he simply stood up, taking her with him.

"I can w-w-walk, you know." She said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck.

He grunted, and held her shivering form. _Not this time._ Not for a long time. Damn she'd scared him.

Too much.

He shook his head. There'd be time to evaluate later. Right now he needed to get her to the infirmary.

"What?" Evan said, frowning at Sheppard, and tilting his head towards Jen and Ronon. "I don't get a carry?"

"Buck up, Major." John said, turning to follow Ronon's retreating back, supporting most of Evan's weight while they moved. "If you're lucky I might get you a pair of pants that aren't see-through before we hit the infirmary."

"Jealous?"

John laughed. "Not a chance."

"Too much information." Jen called out. He felt her body shake, but this time with laughter. Her head lifted and she peered over his shoulder.

"Eyes forward, Doctor." John ordered, making Evan laugh.

"Don't worry, Doc." Evan winked. "I won't tell if you won't."

"Deal."

"Although we still need to have that little discussion."

Ronon glanced down as she was settling her head back into the crook of his neck. _Discussion_?

"Reprimand me all you want, Major." Her retort was only slightly muffled by Ronon. "After I thaw."

* * *

As they made their way through the lower levels towards the nearest transporter station, they ran into Rodney, who was accompanied by a small team of engineers and scientists.

She smiled to see Rodney, but the minute two of the engineers came around the corner behind him, her body stiffened. Ronon felt, rather than saw Evan's sudden movement as the Major yanked himself away from Sheppard to step out front.

Ronon had no idea what was happening but he tensed and shifted Jen's weight in his arms, ready to drop her behind him and grab his gun.

John was standing next to Evan with both hands on his P90.

"You two look like hell." Rodney exclaimed, blinking between Evan and Jen. Ronon could see the blatant relief in McKay's features. "You guys all right?"

Ronon could feel Jen's head turning as she scanned the group behind Rodney.

"Cold and wet." Evan finally answered, his sideways glance giving Jennifer a hidden cue that she could relax. Ronon felt her body droop and her fingers released their claw like grip on his shoulder.

Rodney nodded, his relief giving way to his curiosity. "What the hell did you blow up? Why _are_ you wet? Where are your clothes? And why are you down here? Do you realize how many sensor alarms are going off across the city right now?"

"Long story." Evan interrupted, then tilted his head back down the way they came. "But you might want to check out the ah… big hole in the wall back there."

"Hole?" Rodney's face blanched. "What hole? What wall? How big? Do you realize how far under the surface we are? The sheer pressure of the water alone could crush us faster than a shoe to an ant." Rodney strode down the hallway, waving his team onward. "What is with you people and explosives? I don't have enough trouble to handle with Zelenka's monkeys sticking their fingers in everything, now you two have to start? I swear, one of these days I'm going to schedule mandatory classes on the benefits of not blowing up random rooms hundreds of meters below sea level. Oh. My. God. That's not a hole, it's a gaping monstrosity!"

The rest of the rant died abruptly as Rodney ordered his team into action.

"Okay." John lowered his P90. "Care to tell me what that was all about?"

As they continued on to the transporter, Evan did his best to give Ronon and John the Coles notes abridged version of what transpired. She shuddered when Evan mentioned the part about Corporal Merrill, burrowing closer into his chest. He shifted his grip, his hands sliding further up her back and along the cold skin of her hip.

He was trying very hard to balance out the anger of Liddell leaving her to die… the feel of how cold her skin was under his hands… the knowledge that this slight frame, shivering in his arms, packed a switchblade in her boot… the fury of everything she'd been dealing with for the past four days.

And through it all, she hadn't quit. She'd simply stuffed a knife in her shoe and carried on.

When John moved to have the Marines storm Jonathon Liddell's good-bye party, Evan stopped him. Demanding a chance to do it himself, with Jen seconding the motion.

When John refused, she struggled with such ferocity in Ronon's grasp he had to fight to hold onto her slippery body.

Sheppard must have realized there was something important to letting them both be present when he arrested Liddell, so he finally relented. Instead he ordered a security detail to slyly ensure Liddell was still at the party, and inform him if the man made any move to leave.

Ronon wasn't sure if the agitated doctor sold the decision or not, but the minute John agreed she settled down.

A pair of Marines met them at the top side of the transporter, blankets in hand.

Ronon grabbed one of the blankets and spun around, using his back to shield her from the others. Her shirt was horribly thin and with the added effect of the water, temptingly see-through. He lowered her to the floor, and quickly wrapped the blanket tightly around her. When he picked her up again, completely cocooned, she sighed and snuggled against him, closing her eyes. With her arms tightly tucked beneath the blanket, she had no way of holding on.

He felt his chest tighten to know she trusted him so openly. She was awake, talking, and completely relaxed in his arms.

Once in the infirmary he stepped away and let the nurses take over. Her thigh showed a long, angry red gouge running from her hip to her knee, but it required nothing more than some ointment.

Still wrapped in the blanket, her hands cupped around a mug of hot chocolate, she sat beside Evan on a gurney, watching the Major's shoulder being re-stitched. With her hair mussed and wet, and her bare feet kicking restlessly through the air, she looked so young. So fragile. But he was beginning to see past that. They all were. Because they were slowly discovering this little thing had a hell of a lot more to her than what you saw on the outside.

Ronon watched the play of words between the two of them. The Doctor and the Major. At first he'd felt a stab of jealousy. They joked like old friends. Sat shoulder to shoulder, thighs brushing in nearness like known lovers.

He had no right to be jealous. He'd made no claim. She wasn't his to be jealous of.

But it still hurt somehow.

He'd been tempted to turn away. To leave her with Lorne and Sheppard. But he held back. He'd left her in someone else's care already today and she'd nearly died. He wasn't about to repeat the same mistake again.

So he remained on the far side of the room, pacing. Biding his time until he could go after Liddell. After Matterson. Because she was still important. Still worth retribution. Still worth his protection. Even if she was involved with someone else.

He scrutinized them together, watching the clues in their speech and mannerism, he soon realized the energy was wrong.

He slowed his pacing.

She smiled with Evan. Laughed and joked. Teased.

But she wasn't watching the Major.

Ronon stopped moving when he finally realized Jennifer's eyes were _his_.

Not Lorne's.

He felt the edges of his mouth turn up.

She smiled in return.

He stepped forward.

Evan slid off the gurney and turned towards John, who'd been waiting patiently next to the bed. "Dry clothes and I'm good to go."

"You sure about this?" John raised his eyebrow, staring at Evan's double bandaged shoulder.

"Hell, yes." Evan answered, his face serious.

John nodded. "Okay."

"Hey! Me too!" Jen slid off the bed, dropping her feet onto the floor. Ronon stepped forward, ready to catch her if she fell but she steadied herself. Setting her mug onto the small table between the beds she adjusted the blanket she still held tightly around her shoulders, and turned towards Evan.

"If you're going to hit him I think I deserve to be there."

"He's not going to hit him." John looked pointedly at Evan. "Is he?"

Evan shrugged. "No promises."

John sighed. "I suppose I knew that already." He turned towards Jen and Ronon. "Meet us by the conference room in ten minutes?"

Ronon almost laughed at the implication of the statement because the Colonel wasn't looking at Jen when he said it. He was looking at Ronon. John must have understood Ronon wasn't about to let her out of his sight.

"That thing set to stun?" John raised an eyebrow.

Ronon withdrew his gun and spun it around his index finger. A soft electronic squeal sounded and he dropped it back into the holster. "Yep."

John shook his head. "Ten minutes." Then he looked pointedly at Jennifer. "Try not to let Marshall Dillon here shoot anyone."

Jen glanced at Evan and echoed the Major's earlier statement. "No promises."

John rolled his eyes when Evan and Ronon grinned at each other.

"You need to stop spending so much time with my men, Doc. You're turning out to be as bad as they are."

Jen couldn't help smiling.


	15. Chapter 15

Approaching the transporter she shifted her weight quickly from foot to foot, the cold floor starting to make her regret not taking the offer from one of the nurses for an extra pair of socks.

"Doc?" Ronon questioned, his eyes on her feet.

"Floor's cold." She smiled, stepping forward, squeaking when Ronon had her up in his arms again.

"Ronon."

"Yes?" He punched their destination on the control panel, then turned when the doors opened outside the crew quarters.

"You can't carry me everywhere. I'm too heavy."

He laughed.

She frowned. "What?"

"I could carry you around all day."

"Don't be ridiculous." She muttered, releasing the blanket to grab hold of his shoulders. "I'm perfectly capable of walking."

"And I'm perfectly capable of carrying you."

Jen sighed. Then shook her head, deciding that it wasn't every day a girl was escorted through the hallways in the arms of an incredibly strong, sexy man. Although the looks she was getting from the scattered passers-by were making her blush furiously.

When they reached her quarters he set her down, giving her access to the door panel. Indicating she was to stand away from the door, she waited in the hallway while he searched her room. When he returned, he nodded, stepping aside to give her unabridged access to her quarters.

But she hesitated, the open doorway staring at her like a giant, gaping maw. She wanted warm, dry clothes. But clothes were in there. And in there - was a lot of bad energy. The room was clear. But it didn't mean it wasn't empty. It was silly, really, because he was right here. There was no need to feel anything but secure.

"Doc?"

She looked up, assurance evident in his green eyes.

Jen blinked. Chewed her lip. And stepped into her room.

When he didn't follow, she turned and walked back out.

"What?" He frowned.

"This is really stupid." She exhaled. "But right now, I'm not going in there alone."

For a moment she was afraid he wouldn't come with her. She held her breath, dreading the thought that he'd refuse. That she'd have to go in there by herself.

When he nodded, she let out the breath she was holding.

Walking back into the room she could feel the strength of his presence pushing away all the negativity. She turned towards him and nodded. "Thank you."

He tilted his head, and lowered himself into the chair he'd occupied just a few hours earlier. God it seemed like days. She watched him stretch his legs out, crossing them at the ankles, his hands landed on the arms of the chair.

When he turned to face her, his eyes drew hers in and she shifted forward, unable to look away. There was so much she wanted to say to him. So many conversations she'd played out in her head while she hung in the water. Things that seemed perfectly sound at the time, now felt too petty. To cheap. Not nearly good enough for what she wanted.

She'd been completely convinced she was going to die today. And now that she'd been given the second chance, she couldn't walk away without knowing. She could live with the embarrassment of failure. She didn't want to die without ever having tried.

Jen didn't realize he'd straightened up in the chair until she was standing between his legs, staring down into his face. His eyes never left hers – startling green fire warming her in places she hadn't realized she was cold.

Ronon followed her slow progress as she crossed the room, her bare feet padding silently on the cool floor. When she stopped in front of him, he couldn't stop himself from reaching for her. His hands gently clasped her hips and he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling the base of her throat with his nose. He could feel the strength of her pulse beating against his cheekbone.

Letting go of the blanket she gently wrapped her arms around his head.

"I'm glad you're okay." He said, finally finding his voice.

Her fingers stroked a long twist of his hair. "Me too." She whispered.

He pulled back, keeping his hands firmly planted on her hips. The blanket had fallen to the floor, leaving her standing between his legs half dressed, with a damp, slightly see-through top that revealed the lacy bra she wore matched the underwear which was currently teasing his palms. He tried not to stare. Tried and failed.

The tentative touch of her hands on his shoulders nearly broke him.

She was so beautiful.

Her hands slid slowly up his neck to cup his face, her thumbs rubbing lightly over the hair beneath his jaw.

She lowered her head… so slowly he almost thought he was imagining it.

When she hesitated, her lips a breath from his, he raised his chin and completed the connection.

The softness of her mouth sang to him and he fell. Hard and fast. She tasted of sweetness and life, happiness and home. She moved her mouth slowly and he savored the rush of innocence she fed him.

Then she shifted her weight and he felt the surge of power that came with the heady rush of desire. He leaned further back in the chair, pulling her down with him. She straddled his legs, lowering herself into his lap. His hands slid briefly off her hips and down the smooth, cool skin of her thighs before moving up her back. He clasped her neck, pulling her mouth tightly against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, tentatively at first, then with more and more bravado, her unchecked passion overwhelming him with such force he forgot to breathe. Gods this woman had fire beneath her soul. When his tongue pushed forward to tangle with hers she made a soft, keening noise in the back of her throat, breaking a wave of emotion over his body.

When she finally pulled back, inhaling sharply, he knew to look into her stormy hazel eyes that he was lost. Fully and completely. Before… before he could have been content to wonder. But now… now there would be no coming back. She'd captured his heart with a simple kiss.

Jen was finding it very, very hard to catch her breath.

She'd intended on giving him a kiss - to see, just once, what it would be like, but he'd turned it into something so sensual her entire body was thrumming to an invisible music. She'd never known something as simple as a kiss could make her feel so… so… intense. She'd completely lost herself in the incredible rush of blood and emotion. With unsteady limbs, she lowered her hands to his shoulders, feeling the heat and power radiating off his body.

And his eyes. The way he was looking at her right now. Darkest green and hungry. She felt… captured.

His legs tensed and she realized with a heated flush she was sitting on his lap. His lap! Dear lord what on earth had come over her. Her face and ears heated and she tried to push away but he held her tightly.

"Jennifer." She froze as her name rolled off his lips. "Are you sorry that happened?"

Her eyes sank further into his and she shook her head. "God, no."

"Good." He nodded. "Because I'd like to do it again."

"You…" She blinked. "You would?" _Did he just say he wanted to kiss her again? _

He nodded. Once. "But I think we'd better go before Sheppard and Lorne have all the fun."

"Okay." Jen whispered, her eyes still searching his for any sign that she'd heard him wrong. _He wanted to kiss her again?_

"Do you still want to change?"

"Hmm?"

"Your clothes."

"My clothes?" Jen looked down, and finally realized what he was trying to say. She was straddling the man, in her quarters, wearing a wet t-shirt and flimsy underwear. "Oh god." Her face heated and she scrambled off him, forgetting about covering up with the blanket that still lay discarded at his feet. She scurried around gathering up clothes and ran to the bathroom.

Ronon followed her every movement, his mind still swimming from the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against his, completely distracted by the sway of her bottom beneath the lacy blue underwear as she moved about the room. It was only after she'd closed the bathroom door that he realized he'd been holding his breath.

He exhaled. A long, calming breath.

He felt as though he was standing at the edge of a massive chasm, about to step off into the unknown, and for the first time in his life, desperately wanted to take that leap.


	16. Chapter 16

Standing in the hallway outside the conference room, Evan felt antsy. Dressed in a fresh pair of BDU's he stretched his neck side to side and rolled his shoulders. He wanted to rush in there and tackle the man like a football player going for the sack. But that probably wouldn't go over so well with the PTB's. So, he held himself back.

There _was_ something to be said for patience. Drawing it out. Enjoying the power of knowing he was about to wipe the smirk of the little weasel's face in front of all the man's friends and co-workers.

Maybe justice _did_ have a sense of humour.

When Jen arrived, dry uniform and her hair pulled back into a ponytail, he studied her for a moment, briefly concerned. She stopped beside him.

"You okay?" She asked, eyes automatically dropping to his shoulder.

He nodded. "Never better." He glanced up at Ronon, who was standing slightly behind her and to the left. His arms were crossed and he was gazing the doctor with a predatory watchfulness.

_Interesting… _

Evan turned as John ordered two teams of Marine's to watch each exit, warning them Liddell might be armed.

The plan was for Woolsey to call for a speech, herding Liddell into a far corner near one of the exits, away from any potential hostages. If Liddell tried anything stupid, Ronon should be able drop him without incident. If the engineer was dumb enough to pull a gun, then all bets were off.

Once everyone was in place, John waited at the back of the room as the applause died down. There were twenty one people in the room, including Liddell, Woolsey, and himself. A small crowd. Small and manageable.

Evan could feel his tension level growing the longer he waited. When Liddell held up his arms and gave a mock bow to the small group, John keyed his radio twice, signaling the start of the real show.

As Evan and Jen stepped into the room Liddell was looking the other way, giving a nod to Woolsey, and thanking him for the opportunity to come to such a fine, fine city as Atlantis.

When he turned back to face the crowd, and caught sight of Jen and Evan, all hell broke loose.

From behind the back of his jacket, Liddell yanked a gun out and had it pointed at Jennifer. As he was firing, Evan spun to shove her to the ground, at the same time as Ronon launched himself in front of them both. Any clear shot was blocked by the shifting crowd who were scrambling up over chairs and tables to reach the exits.

"You okay?" Evan yelled over the screams of the panicked party goers.

"Yes, yes!" Jen nodded, scrambling to her feet behind Ronon. "Go! Get him!"

Evan honed in on the cowering body of Jonathon Liddell as the little worm tried to hide behind two other men who were hurrying towards the exit.

"Gotcha." Evan sneered, clambering around a stack of chairs. He saw John and Ronon flanking from either side and jumped forward. "He's mine!"

Liddell spun around and stood, the revolver banking towards Evan's rapidly approaching form.

Evan slammed into the engineer, taking him over a table and crashing with an exceptionally satisfactory landing onto the floor. Ripping the revolver out of the man's hand, Evan threw it to the side and fisted his hand into the front of the man's shirt, taking a handful of tie with it.

Yanking him to his feet, Evan smiled at the incredulous expression on the consultant's face. "Dr. Keller and I decided to take you up on your offer." Evan looked around. "You're right. Impressive party. To bad it has to end so soon."

Jonathon's face flushed but he held his place, his eyes furious as he glared from Evan to Jennifer, who'd come to stand off to the right. Behind her stood Ronon, his gun trained directly on Liddell, and Ronon looked absolutely furious. Sheppard stood on Evan's left, his eyes on the contractor.

Evan was honestly surprised that with the amount of hardware currently pointed in the man's direction, he wasn't smart enough to be afraid.

"Fine." Jonathon smiled, a cold, knowing grin. "What are you going to do? Arrest me? My lawyer will have me off the minute I step foot on American soil. Atlantis doesn't exist. How can I have committed a crime if it doesn't exist?"

"Technically, Mr. Liddell, the IOA doesn't need to provide a lawyer." Richard Woolsey said, stepping up beside Sheppard. "We have our own judicial system. If my memory serves me right, and it usually does, you might be out in twenty five years. Barring good behavior."

"Don't be ridiculous." Liddell spat. "You can't just lock a man up without a fair and legal trial!"

"I didn't say there wouldn't be a trial." Richard nodded. "Dr. Keller, is this the man who shot Corporal Merrill and left both you and Major Lorne to perish below the city?"

"Yes." Jen nodded. "He certainly is."

"Major?" Woolsey angled his head.

"It's him." Evan grinned.

"There you go then." Richard nodded at John. "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I have an urgent transmission to make."

"This is preposterous! It's illegal! It's against the constitution! It's against my civil rights!" Jonathon yelled at Woolsey's retreating backside.

"I think you gave up your right when tried to kill Major Lorne and Dr. Keller." Ronon growled, inching forward.

At this point, much to Evan's satisfaction, Liddell was finally starting to realize he may not actually make it out of this one without a scratch.

"This is all your fault!" Jonathon's fury was slowly turning his face red. "If you hadn't been in that damn infirmary so much, no one would have had any clue!"

"Yeah, yeah." Evan muttered. "You damn kids and your meddling dog."

At John's nod, two Marine's moved in to take custody of Liddell. When Evan released the front of the man's shirt, Liddell took the opportunity to jump at Evan, but the Major was more than ready.

More than ready.

He was really, really hoping the contractor would give him just such an opportunity.

With a swift right to the side of the jaw, then a left to the face, the engineer dropped to the floor, blood streaming out of his nose. Jonathon cried out, staring at the blood on his hands as he lightly touched his nose. "You bwoke my node!" He cried out.

Evan shrugged at Sheppard. "Sorry. I called no promises."

John rolled his eyes.

"Major." Jen's voice was loud and sharp, everyone turning towards her.

Evan had a brief thought that she was about to chastise him for breaking the man's nose, and wondered if, after everything she'd been through, she'd need to tend to the idiot lying on the floor.

Judging from the group of people staring at her, they all wondered the same thing.

Evan turned towards her.

Jen stepped over Jonathon's squiggling legs and stood facing Evan. She leaned over, her fingers picking up sleeve of his shirt, peeking at the bandage underneath.

She wrinkled her nose. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't pull your stitches again."

Evan grinned.

John groaned.

Jen touched her earpiece and settled into the space between Evan and Ronon. "Dr. Brasser, I believe there's a prisoner being escorted to one of our holding cells that will require some minor medical assistance. Whenever you get a chance. No hurry."

* * *

Sitting in the boardroom, listening as Jennifer and Evan filled everyone in on the full details of what had gone on, Ronon found himself silently wishing he'd been the one to break Liddell's nose. And ribs. And legs. Arms too. Maybe a finger… or eight.

With Woolsey, McKay, and Sheppard all pestering them with questions, Ronon could see Jen was starting to lose what little energy she had left. And the way she kept glancing at her watch told him she'd definitely not forgotten about Matterson. He knew she was distracted, because her questions had to be repeated.

He hated knowing she was being dragged along like this. Forced to document and justify every detail. Having to wait for it to be over, yet knowing the end was still out of reach.

She was exhausted.

Yet she never once complained.

Personally, he'd kept quiet, preferring to listen, but when the part came about her insistence that Evan climb out first, using _her_ as a human ladder, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"You what?"

She blinked, her face flushing bright pink as she stared across the table at him. He saw a quick flash of uncertainty in her eyes before they slipped into something stronger. A _challenge_?

"Yes," She nodded. "I did. And like I told Major Lorne, it was the smartest move. I wouldn't have been strong enough to pull him out. It wouldn't have worked the other way."

"Actually Doc," Evan leaned forward. "You could have gone for help."

"Help where? From what map? It would have wasted precious time. Time we didn't have. Time you wouldn't have had. No. If I had to do it all over again, I'd tell you the same thing."

Ronon watched her face as she fought through the memory. McKay _had_ picked up the explosion on the sensors. And they _had_ rushed down as quickly as possible, but she was right.

She wouldn't have been strong enough to lift Lorne three feet out of the water. And maybe she would have found a communications panel. And maybe she wouldn't.

The room was silent while everyone waited – apparently for him to answer since it was his question that prompted the discussion.

When he nodded, her point accepted, he was surprised to see relief on her face. Almost as though she'd expected him not to understand her logic. How could he not?

Ronon left the rest of the explanation up to Sheppard. He half listened to McKay's report on the soundness of the base structure despite the explosion, and barely heard Woolsey comment on the end of the meeting.

Instead he chose to watch her. The flash of memory from earlier in her room eating into his sub-conscious. He knew he was staring, but didn't care.

When everyone rose to leave, he stood, following them out. Following her out.

Jen was starting to feel the length of her unusual couple of days. For the umpteenth time she checked her watch. She had fifteen minutes until SGA-12 was due to check in. Until Matterson was taken into custody. Until she could finally relax.

Fifteen minutes.

Seemed like forever.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to be in the control room when the command was given… or if she wanted to be at the opposite end of the city. John already told her it would still be an hour before SGA-12 returned, and that was barring any complications. She thought briefly about napping, then realized she'd never be able to sleep. But it wasn't the memory of Matterson and her room that would get in the way. Oh, no. That thought was completely overpowered with another, more insistent, more recent memory. A much _hotter_ memory. Kissing Ronon.

Wandering aimlessly, oblivious to anyone who'd tried to wave or catch her attention, she eventually found herself on the balcony, her balcony. A she stepped out into the darkness, a gust of wind whipped her pony tail around her head. She crossed to the far corner, and tucked herself in behind one of the pillars, sliding herself down onto the floor. Pulling her legs up to her chest she dropped her forehead to her knees and closed her eyes.

The warmth trickled across her skin. She smiled into her knees, knowing without looking, happier somehow to know he'd followed her.

She rolled her head to the side, straining to look up.

Ronon lowered himself to the ground beside her, having to cross his legs to fit into the tight space. She would have laughed, if not for the fact that she suddenly felt more like crying.

So instead of either, she chose to lean against him, dropping her head onto his shoulder and closing her eyes.

He leaned into her, accepting her shift in position without speaking.

"You don't have to go, you know. Sheppard can deal with Matterson."

Jen shook her head, rolling it side to side against his shoulder. "No. I _do_ have to go. If I'd been brave enough to say something the first time, I wouldn't be _in_ this situation."

"That's not fair." He said slowly.

"It never is." She shrugged.

"No." He shook his head. "You blaming yourself is what's not fair. None of this is your fault."

Jen rolled her eyes, wanting desperately to believe him. "If I'd told John what Matterson was doing right away… If I'd told someone when he showed up in my room? If I'd said something the second night? Or after… after what he did in the bathroom? Ronon, I had so many opportunities… but I just… couldn't."

"You told Woolsey."

"Yeah." She shrugged. "A lot of good that did."

"Jennifer." He said, placing his hand under her chin and lifting her face towards his. "You are not to blame here. Matterson is." He paused, studying her face, his eyes staring deeply into hers. "If it had been one of your nurses… not you… up against Matterson, would you blame them for feeling a little… overwhelmed?"

She shook her head. "No."

"And if they tried to tell you it was all their fault?"

"I'd tell them it wasn't."

"Then?" He raised his eyebrows, and she shook her head.

She inhaled slowly, then sighed. "You're too smart for your own good, sometimes." She whispered.

He shrugged. "Don't tell anyone."

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her cheek against the side of his hand, which was still cupping her chin. God she was so tired. She just wanted it to be over with.

"Hey." He said softy.

She blinked open her eyes and stared into his face.

"Promise me something?"

She raised her head, suddenly concerned about the serious look on his face. "Of course."

"If you ever, ever need anything… anything at all. I want you to come to me. Anytime. Anywhere. No questions asked. No details if you're not ready to share them. Will you do that for me?"

Jen listened to his words, hearing them, but seeing something even greater in the message. Ronon was a man who held his friends in the highest possible place. A man who'd do anything for justice. Anything for retribution. Anything to protect what he loved and called dear.

His eyes searched hers, waiting for her answer, and she knew. She knew without a doubt her answer was going to be bigger than the both of them. He was asking her if she trusted him enough to come to him if she needed help. And he was telling her just how much he trusted her to offer his help without question. It was a leap of faith and she knew in her heart she'd never be able to refuse it.

"I promise." She whispered, tilting her head to rest her cheek in his open palm, her eyes never letting go of his. "I promise."

His thumb grazed lightly over her cheekbone and she closed her eyes, feeling his breath on her lips only moments before he kissed her.


	17. Chapter 17

After her soft kisses melted him into a subdued state of oblivion, Ronon wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body against his, taking her onto his lap so he could rest his cheek on top of her head, and bury his face in her hair. It awed him how quickly she fell asleep against him, the concept of what she was offering completely lost to her. Sleeping next to someone was the ultimate act of trust. Giving yourself to the person so entirely you purposely left yourself at your most vulnerable. Fully unprotected.

He'd been with Sheppard's team for years and it was only recently he'd fully understood the value of that level of trust. Knowing he would be protected while he slept. He still wasn't used to it.

When the com in his ear snapped to life, he debated ignoring it, wanting to let her sleep. Not wanting to leave the incredibly rare comfort he was feeling. But he knew what had to happen.

"Ronon, it's Sheppard."

"Go ahead." He said, smiling apologetically when she blinked up at him from her curled position against his shoulder.

"You ah…" John's voice hesitated. "Wouldn't happen to know where Dr. Keller is, would you?"

Ronon smirked, then lowered his voice. "Don't tell me you lost her again."

Jen raised an eyebrow and sat up straighter.

Ronon could hear John muttering curses to someone in the background.

"Relax, Sheppard." Ronon answered after Jennifer backhanded him across the chest. "She's right here."

"Oh." John exhaled. "Oh! Oh okay. Right. Well, then. Um… could you kindly tell the good doctor it's show time? That is if she want's to be present. She doesn't have to be."

"We'll be right there." Ronon said, clicking off the mic.

"Matterson?" She said softly, the worry returning to her eyes.

He nodded, deciding he wanted very much to rip the man to shreds for causing her distress, and knowing he would do just that if she asked him to.

As they reached the gate room, he could feel her agitation growing with each step. The stiffening of her shoulders and the way she twisted her hands together was a dead giveaway, but it was the shorter pulls of her breath that brought his own level of agitation to the surface.

Sheppard and Lorne were both standing in the middle of the floor, talking. The regular security teams stood off to the sides, and there was an additional pair of Marines who were set to take Matterson into custody. Ronon wondered if he'd end up in the same cell as Liddell. Maybe they'd kill each other off?

Richard Woolsey joined them on the floor as the control room announced the incoming wormhole. Once the IDC's were confirmed the shield was lowered and the team stepped through the gate.

Jen cringed slightly to see Eli surrounded by the team of Marines. He looked… completely harmless. Shoulders hunched, head lowered, he looked… chastised. Like a child being brought before the principal.

She felt her heart beat increase.

He was up to something.

The gate dissolved leaving the group standing in silence.

When John stepped forward, Jen caught a funny look on the face of Captain Burton, who had one hand on Eli's arm. She wasn't quite sure what it was she'd seen before the Captain turned towards Colonel Sheppard.

When John waved two members of the security team over, Eli shook his head, his eyes staring directly at Jennifer's.

And when he spoke, she knew without a doubt just what had transpired. The little bastard lied.

"Jennifer." His voice was soft and accusatory, as though he didn't want his words to carry beyond her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" She blinked, stepping closer.

"These lies." He said, eyes wide and pleading. "You can't possibly believe I could do such things!"

Jen stared at him, incredulous.

"Believe? Eli I know you did it." To say she was shocked was an understatement. What the hell was going on?

"I'm sorry if things didn't work out between us." He whispered harshly, his words intended for her ears only, but easily carried through the silence of the room. "But do you really think all of this is necessary? I mean, what did you tell them I did? Attacked you? Jennifer please. You can't let them do this to me. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't let this charade go on. It will ruin my career."

"Ruin your career." She repeated, her mind completely numb with what she was hearing. "Eli, you ruined your own career."

"Jennifer. I'm begging you. Please don't do this. I realize that you've been under a lot of stress lately. That the position of CMO has been overwhelming. I've heard you crying alone at night in your office. I'm sorry if you took my offer of help the wrong way. I was only trying to ease some of your workload. To help you cope with what is obviously something you were thrown into after Carson's death. You weren't ready for it. There's no harm in asking for help. I just thought… I just thought I'd offer my assistance. My years of service for you to pull upon. Jennifer. Jen. You could have just said no." He held his hands out towards the extra security teams. "You didn't need to come up with all this."

Jennifer snapped her mouth shut. Unable to clearly think of anything to say in response. She could feel her fingers starting to tremble. This was not how this was supposed to be happening. Why was everyone staring at her? Her eyes shifted to Captain Barton and the three Marines on his team. Men who she'd patched up on more than one occasion, who before now, never had a problem with her. Men who were looking very much like she should be apologizing to the man who tormented her for two days, threatened to kill her, and threw her into a mirror.

She stepped back, her head shaking in disbelief. She couldn't answer this. Couldn't even begin to think of anything to say that would even remotely begin to describe the horror she was feeling. Her stomach twisted when she felt ever pair of eyes in that room shift off of Eli and on to her. They waited. Waited for her to answer.

Waited for her to justify everything.

And Eli's eyes flashed triumphant before returning to their puppy-dog sadness.

She stepped back again, but this time could go no further. Her back slammed in a heated brick wall.

She stood in the middle of the gate room, her breath unsteady, her mind spinning. When a warm hand landed on her shoulder, she inhaled and accepted what he was saying.

Ronon trusted her.

He believed her.

When Evan stepped up on her other, she suddenly felt a cocoon of warmth and support. When she glanced at John, she realized he was simply waiting for her to respond. His eyes were narrowed and he was watching Eli with suspicion. Not belief.

Jen took a deep breath and stepped forward, feeling the added security of knowing her friends were there with her.

She stepped up to Eli, close enough that he could reach out and touch her if he so desired. But doing so would destroy his carefully concocted little story. Jen wondered just how long he'd been setting this up. Captain Barton and his men looked like they'd been suckered in quite early on.

She knew the others believed her. But something inside her balked at letting Matterson walk away – especially without contradicting anything he said. Letting him leave now would make her look guilty, and his story justified.

She could see the battle of wills behind his eyes as he studied her. Something cold and brutal lived in there. He'd broken into her quarters. Attacked her, not once, but twice. And left her scared enough she'd cried herself to sleep in the bathtub with a revolver for a pillow.

Standing directly in front of him, she spoke as clearly, and calmly as possible.

"Gentlemen." She glanced at Captain Barton and his men. "I have no idea what crazy story Dr. Matterson has been spinning, but I can assure you, it's fabricated. Three nights ago Dr. Matterson failed his performance review. He failed because his lax judgment and poor bedside manner resulted in several medical messes which my staff had to rush to clean up. Two of which almost resulted in the loss of life."

She leaned back, noting the sudden fire that appeared in Eli's eyes.

"When Dr. Matterson disagreed with my assessment, he threatened to kill me. The first time in my office. The second time, after he'd broken into my quarters while I was sleeping alone. The third time was the following evening, again, after he'd broken into my quarters. The fourth time…" Jen quickly shrugged out of her jacket and spun around, hiking her shirt up to show the raw red scrapes across her back.

She spoke over her shoulder, her eyes watching the fury crossing Eli's face. "The fourth time, Dr. Matterson decided to use my back to shatter the mirror in the infirmary bathroom to get his point across."

She lowered her shirt and turned back around, this time noting with satisfaction that Captain Barton was looking a little less impressed with Eli Matterson, and a whole lot angry.

"Jennifer, please." Eli tried, his voice rising a little higher than necessary.

"Did you want the security camera footage of the bathroom?" Rodney called out, stepping onto the main floor, pulling out his tablet and angling his head towards Jen.

Jen looked over her shoulder, surprised to see him there, and knowing damn well there was no security footage. But the look on Rodney's face told her he'd heard the conversation, and had figured out exactly what she was trying to do.

She smiled, and turned slowly back around to face Eli. "Did you want to see it? We had the cameras installed after some of our supplies started to go missing. They show a great view of the sink area when the door's are open. Or did you forget you left the door open?"

She could see Eli's mind working furiously to remember. But he must have realized answering the question about the door would put him in the room. Which he was actually vehemently trying to deny.

As he shook his head, colour quickly climbing his cheeks, Jen knew she was one comment away from making him explode. And unless people could see Eli Matterson for the horrific man he was, they'd always wonder about her. And wonder about him.

She wasn't sure if she could bring herself to say it. She glanced over her shoulder at Ronon, staring at him long enough to make him step closer.

She wasn't sure if he moved because she was mentally begging him to, or if he did it because of the pure panic she knew was raging through her body. And truthfully, she didn't care. Just the fact that he'd moved even a little bit closer was all she needed.

She turned back to Eli, working very hard to make her smile as soft and casual as possible. Then she stepped forward, tilting her head back so she could look up into Eli's face.

"Seventeen years in the field and you couldn't master a woman who's half your size, alone in her quarters, in the dark, on two separate occasions? No wonder Carson passed you over."

Before she could turn away, in the graceful exit she'd planned, Eli's voice cracked and he lunged for her, breaking free of an unsuspecting Captain Barton, screaming obscenities with such force, spittle formed on his lips. "Bitch! Whore! Slut!" He managed to get a hold of her arm, twisting her around before his words were strangled under the squeezing grip of Ronon's right hand.

"Maybe you'd like to try someone your own size?" Ronon growled, his fingers digging sharply into Eli's throat.

"I'll kill you, you bitch!" Eli sputtered, his face glowing red. "You hear me! You'll die for this! I hate you! I hate you all! That job should have been mine! You're nothing but a cheap, lying whore!"

Jen staggered back, completely shocked that Eli had erupted with such violence. She'd expected him to crack, but this was… this was insanity.

"Let him go, Ronon." John ordered, and Jen had half a mind to tell him to just hang on.

Eli ceased struggling, and Ronon slowly released him. The second Eli's neck was free, he dropped to a crouch and launched himself directly at Jennifer.

She jumped back, slamming into Evan, who spun her out of the path of the oncoming psychopath.

But Eli didn't make it more than half a step before his abdomen was wrapped around Ronon's fist.

With a growl of satisfaction, Ronon brought his knee up and connected perfectly with Eli's chest. Eli's body lifted back and he staggered, his jaw snapping to the left, the right, then the left again as Ronon landed a quick succession of punches. With a final upward swing, Ronon sent Eli slamming limply into the floor where he finally lay silent and still.

"Get him out of here." John ordered, staring at Eli's unconscious body. As the security detail stepped in, John shook his head at Ronon. "Was that really necessary?"

"You said I couldn't shoot him." Ronon shrugged. "Didn't say I couldn't hit him."

John rolled his eyes. "Mental note to self. Be more specific."


	18. Chapter 18

EPILOGUE

It was well after Midnight when Ronon escorted her back to her quarters. Jen wasn't so sure she was going to make it on her own, her legs were so wobbly from the insanity that had been the last three… no, four… four days.

The muscles in her thighs twitched and trembled, over exerted and exhausted beyond proper use. When she bounced into him, for the twentieth time, she laughed.

"I'm sorry." She muttered. "My legs have had it."

"You know what will fix that?"

She shook her head. "Sleep? Ibuprofen? A5-35?"

He bent down and scooped her up. "How about not walking on them for a few days?"

"Oh." She laughed. "And just how do you propose I do that? I have to work in the morning."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do?"

"Sheppard said to tell you to take the day off. Dr. Nogi is going to cover your shift."

"He did? He is?" Jen frowned, then shrugged. "You know, at this point, I really, really don't care."

When they reached her quarters, he didn't put her down, so she had to wave at her controls from over his shoulder. Which seemed ridiculously funny and she started to giggle as she swiped her hand past the lighting controls on the inside as well.

Ronon carried her directly into the room, and deposited her gently onto the bed.

Her eyes moved around before coming to rest on Ronon's face, high above her as he stood next to the bed.

She sat up, suddenly feeling the surge of memories returning. She exhaled slowly, turning to face him as he lowered himself onto the bed beside her.

"You going to be okay?"

Jen shrugged. "Yes. I guess. I don't know. I might have to ask for another room assignment."

"There's nothing wrong with your room."

"I just… keep thinking, you know?"

"Then don't think about it."

She snorted. "Easy for you to say."

"No." He shook his head, his expression serious. "Knowing someone came that close to harming you, is definitely not easy to forget."

"Yes well at least you got to hit him." She sighed, smiling to hear him laugh.

She yawned and he nodded, pushing to his feet.

"You'll be just fine, Jennifer." He turned back towards her when she stood up. "Just get some sleep."

Jen nodded. "I'll try."

"Lock it."

She laughed and nodded, following him towards the doorway.

"I meant what I said." He turned around, his hands gently gripping her upper arms and pulling her against him. "If you need me, for anything, you know where to find me."

Jen nodded, her hands quickly seeking out his lower back, locking behind him in what was quickly becoming an all too familiar position.

"I promise." She whispered, clutching him tightly.

With his arms still around her, he lowered his head, claiming her lips, but this time he ended it quickly. Too quickly, because she ached for more.

"Sleep." He said softly, turning to let himself out of her room. "Oh." He dug into his pocket and held out a familiar black handle. "This is yours."

Jen picked the switchblade out of his hand and smiled. "Thanks."

Ronon nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

With a sigh of contentment and exhaustion, she let the door slide closed.

* * *

It was nearing three in the morning when Ronon snapped awake to the sound of his door sliding open. With his hand automatically resting on the hilt of his gun, he held still in the bed, eyes scanning the darkness, his senses attune to the surrounding room.

It was her footsteps that reached him first, the soft tentative sounds of bare feet across his floor. Her scent reached his nostrils and he inhaled sharply, letting the faint traces of flowers rush through his memories. Then he saw her slight form, moving through the shadows, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

She moved with purpose, her feet leading her directly towards his bed.

Without a word he lifted the covers and slid over. She crawled in beside him without a sound, only a soft sigh as she snuggled closer, still wrapped tightly in her blanket. He dropped his covers back down and tugged her closer. The feel of her palm against the bare skin of his chest made his muscles tremble lightly.

Within moments she was sound asleep.

As he lay there in the darkness, his mind wondered why she'd come. A part of him wanted to wake her to ask why, but another part understood she'd tell him when she was ready. Either way, he didn't care. She was here.

As he studied her sleeping form, her body calmly relaxed against his, he smiled at the curiosity of wanting to know just how red her cheeks would be in the morning when she realized he slept naked.

.

.

.

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_A/N WOHOO! Okay folks, there you have it. Lullaby is complete - and although it started out as less than it was, it's certainly grown into a huge tale! :) I have however, left a little opening (yay) for an opportunity for Jen to keep her promise about asking him for help with anything. And that story is stuck in the plot bunny stage! I'm sure what she's asking for is going to be very twisty too!_

_I hope you enjoyed this little daliance, and I'll have to go back to the story I started before this one took over! My apologies for any typo's. It's been a crazy couple of days and I didn't spend as much time reading it over as I should have._

_- Nika_


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